#the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany)

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

Since Makowka's piccrew updated, I decided to re-do some old shoots of the kids!

Part two coming in a sec!

#art #the leather bound angel (ava) #ocean powerhouse (mimi) #he has a heart made of cotton (finn) #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #he speaks of holy fates (pascal) #the living stardust (sal) #decided that finn has vitiligo now cause. rabbits often have those patches shshsh

[chocolatte-and-despair]

Can you give me a link to the list of every single character that you made please? I have to scroll for a long time to find it...

((I constantly add new characters to my list, so just because you don’t see your AU or character on this list doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go ahead and request the character! I’m always excited to add new things! So, go ahead, and ask for characters that might not be on here!))

UNDERTALE:

* Sans/Undertale Sans ‘ The Judge ‘ -

* Papyrus/Undertale Papyrus ‘ The Liar ‘  -

* Gaster/Undertale Gaster ‘ The Forgotten Scientist ‘ -

* Grillby/Undertale Grillby ‘The Bartender ‘ -

* Toriel/Undertale Toriel 'The Caretaker' -

* Asgore/Undertale Asgore 'The Previous King' -

* Alphys/Undertale Alphys ' The anxious scientist ' -

* Undyne/Undertale Undyne ' Captain of the royal guard ' -

* Flowey/Undertale Flowey ' The soulless monster ' -

* Bratty/Undertale Bratty ' The friendly crocodile ' -

* Catty/undertale Catty ' The chatty cat ' -

* Lady/Snowdin shopkeeper ' the cheerful shopkeeper from snowdin ' -

* Chara/Undertale Chara ' The vengeful ghost ' -

* Asriel/Undertale Asriel ' The crybaby heir ' -

* Frisk/Undertale Frisk ' the monster ambassador ' -

* Mickey/Undertale Monster Kid ' The Undyne Fan ' -

* Ginger/Undertale Burgerpants -

UNDERFELL:

* Red/Underfell Sans ‘ The Sentry’  -  

* Boss/Underfell Papyrus ‘The Guard Captain’  -  

* Aster/Underfell Gaster ‘ The Failed Scientist ‘ -

* Firefly/Underfell Grillby ‘ The Cold Flirt ‘ -

* Ursa/Underfell Toriel 'The Caretaker of the Catacombs' -

* Tenor/Underfell Asgore ' The Tyrant' -

* Laguna/Underfell Alphys ' The mad scientist ' -

* Currant/Underfell Undyne ' The cruel captain ' -

* Dessy/Underfell Chara ' The demon who brought despair underground ' -

* Daffodil/Underfell Flowey ' The frightful flower ' -

* Fawn/Underfell Frisk ' The genocidal freak ' -

* Penny/Underfell Monster Kid ' The moody teenager ' -

* Tuscan/Underfell Asriel ' The obsessive prince ' -

UNDERSWAP:

* Lucky/Underswap Sans ‘ The Manipulator’  -  

* Stretch/Underswap Papyrus ‘ The Puppet ‘   -  

* Dings/Underswap Gaster ‘ The RiverMan ‘ -

* Peachy/Underswap Grillby 'The bubbling bakery owner'

* Pepper/Underswap Mutter ' The quiet Bartender' -

* Cinnamon/Underswap Chara ' The Two-Faced savior ' -

* Tawny/Underswap Asriel ' The friendly town guide ' -

* Buttercup/Underswap Frisk ' The lost princess ' -

* Periwinkle/Underswap Monster Kid ' The current monster prince ' -

SWAPFELL:

* Razz/Swapfell Sans ‘ The Lord ‘ -  

* Mutt/Swapfell Papyrus ‘ The Wild Dog’  -

* Ebony/Swapfell Toriel ' The unstable Queen' -

* Marigold/Swapfell Asgore ' The Unstable Caretaker' -

* Fuschia/Swapfell Alphys -

* Rosewood/Swapfell Undyne -

* Pitch/Swapfell Chara ' The Cheerful ambassador ' -

* Cobalt/Swapfell Asriel ' The quiet town guide ' -

* Chartreuse/Swapfell Frisk ' The domineering prince ' -

* Peacock/Swapfell Monster Kid ' The prideful princess ' -

FELLSWAP:

* Blackberry/Fellswap Sans ‘ The WannaBe Guard ‘ -

* Patch/Fellswap Papyrus ‘ The Loyal Pet ‘ -

* Sunny/Fellswap Grillby ‘ The Poisonous Bakery Owner ‘ -

* Mahogany/Fellswap Chara ' The temperamental fallen human ' -

* Flaxen/Fellswap Asriel ' The bored town guide ' -

* Canary/Fellswap Frisk ' The good-hearted Lost Spirit ' -

* Jade/Fellswap Monster Kid ' The frightful princess ' -

FELLSWAP GOLD:

*Merlot/Fellswap Gold Sans ' The bad wine expert wannabe ' -

*Mochaccino/Fellswap Gold Papyrus ' The coffee addict ' -

HORRORTALE:

* Hickory/Horrortale Sans ‘ The Butcher ‘ -

* Tatters/Horrortale Papyrus ‘ The Cannibal ‘ -

* Lilac/Horrortale Toriel - 

* Vile/Horrortale Grillby 'The starving bartender'

* Trigger/ Horrortale Undyne ' The Fallen Queen ' -

* Widow/Horrortale Muffet ' The Black Widow ' -

STORYSHIFT:

* Toffee/Storyshift Chara ‘ The Guard ‘ -

* Plum/storyshift Asriel ‘ The Captain’s Son ‘ -

* Pebble/Storyshift Frisk ' The one who will free them all ' -

* Moss/Storyshift Monster Kid ' The village boy ' -

* Cantaloupe/Storyshift Papyrus -

* Skyblue/Storyshift Sans ‘ The King ‘ -

ASYLUMTALE:

* Delta/Asylumtale Sans ‘ The Maniac ‘ -

* Daisy/Asylumtale Alphys 'The therapist' -

OVERTALE:

* Sam/Overtale Sans 'The Boy-Next-Door' -

* Audrey/Overtale Papyrus 'The eccentric mascot' -

* Sapphire/Overtale Frisk ' The friendly goat monster ' -

* Oliver/Overtale Monster Kid ' The curious neighborhood teenager ' -

OUTERTALE:

* Bumblebee/Outertale Flower ' The worrisome flower ' -

* Midnight/Outertale Sans ‘ The Star Fanatic ‘ -

*  Marrow/Outertale Papyrus ‘ The Earth Fanatic ‘ -

DELTARUNE:

* Kris/Deltarune Kris  -

* Susie/Deltarune Susie  -

TRICKSTERTALE:

* Sugarberry/Trickstertale Swap!Sans ' The eccentric Trickster ' -

OUTCODES:

* Glitch/Error! Sans 'The destroyer' -

* Palette/Ink! Sans 'The creator' -

* Night/Nightmare! Sans 'The bringer of nightmares' -

* Starry/Dream! Sans 'The bringer of gentle dreams' -

* Sansy/Fresh! Sans 'The parasite' -

* Coral/Shattered Dream -

* Iris/Fresh! Chara -

* Fern/Mafia!Dream  ' The Optimistic Detective ' -

* Onyx/Mafia!Nightmare  ' The Pessimistic Detective ' -

* Sangria/Mafia!Ink  ' The soulless detective ' -

* Chiffon/Mafia!Error  ' The guilty Detective ' -

* Berry/Strawberry Nightmare ' The positive nightmare ' -

* Arctic/Snake!Dream!Sans ' The positive snake protector ' -

* Anchor/Snake!Nightmare!Sans ' the negative snake guardian ' -

* Sky/Outcode Underswap Sans ' The last star sans ' -

* Coral/Shattered Dream -

* Raven/Killertale Sans -

* Blueprints/Error! Underswap Sans -

BITTIES:

* Tortilla/ Pup Bitty -

* Denim/Sansy Bitty ' The lazy bitty ' -

* Pistachio/Sansy Naga Bitty ' The peaceful snake bitty ' -

* Jam/Edgy bitty -

* Navy/Baby blue bitty -

ECHO SANSES:

* Echo/Echotale Sans ‘ The PlayBoy’  -

* Heather/Echofell Sans -

* Juniper/Echoswap Sans - 

ECHO PAPYRUSES:

* Green/Echotale Papyrus ‘ The BookWorm’  -

DUST SANSES:

* Solaris/Dusttale Sans ‘ The Murderer ‘ -

DUST PAPYRUSES:

* Hound/Dustswapfell Papyrus 'The feeling addict' -

* Yammy/DustJar Papyrus -

* Bronze/Disbelief Papyrus -

* Sandstone/Dustbelief Papyrus -

* Squash/Dustswap Papyrus -

* Fog/Dusttale Papyrus

DUST ASRIELS:

* Carob/Dustshift Asriel -

HORROR GASTERS:

* Rust/horrorfell Gaster 'The man who speaks in screams ' -

* Carnal/Horrorswapfell Gaster ' The Pathetic RiverMan ' -

HORROR SANSES:

* Teddy/Horrorfell Sans 'The dusting butcher' -

* Cranberry/Horrorswap Sans 'The backstabbing maniac' -

* Bell/Horrorfellswap Sans 'The incompetent little helper' -

* Knight/Horrorswapfell Sans 'The Try hard protector' -

* Garnet/Horrorfellswap gold sans -

HORROR PAPYRUSES:

* Rottenberry/Horrorfell Papyrus ‘ The Mute ‘ -

* Pine/Horrorswap Papyrus ' The creepy Con Artist ' -

* Cedar/Horrorfellswap gold Papyrus -

HORROR ASRIELS:

* Umber/Horrorshift Asriel ' the broken down sentry ' -

HORROR CHARAS:

* Soot/Horrorshift Chara ' the protective Butcher ' -

LUST SANSES:

* Spice/Underlust Sans ‘ The Lover ‘ -

* Cotton/Lustswapfell Sans 'The Authoritative slut' -

* Candy/Lustfell Sans -

* Teal/Swaplust sans ' The innocent slut ' -

LUST PAPYRUSES:

* Sugar/Underlust Papyrus ‘ The Friend-With-Benefits ‘ -

* Lavender/Lustfellswap Papyrus 'The Affection seeker' -

* Marmalade/swaplust Papyrus -

LUST GRILLBYS:

* Cerulean/Lustfell Grillby 'The flirty bartender'

LUST TORIELS:

* Sepia/Lustfell Toriel - 

* Orchid/Horrorlust Toriel - 

ALTER SANSES:

* Eros/Altertale Sans 'The gentle giant' -

* Nebula/Alterswap Sans 'The benevolent ruler' -

DANCE SANSES:

*  Azure/Dancetale Sans 'The dancer' -

* Puffy/Danceswap Sans ‘ The Happy-Go-Lucky Dancer ‘ -

DANCE PAPYRUSES:

* Lyric/Danceswap Papyrus 'The jokester dance fanatic' -

* Tangerine/Dancetale Papyrus  -

OUTER SANSES:

* Comet/Outerswap Sans 'The Curious human fanatic' -

* Pluto/Outerfellswap Sans 'The strength fanatic' -

* Perseus/Outerswapfell Sans ' The rule follower ' -

* Cygnus/Outerfell Sans ' The eccentric dreamer ' -

STORY CHARAS:

* Cherry/Shiftfell Chara ‘ The Pet ‘ -

* Majesty/Shiftfellswap Chara ‘ The Captain Of Pride ‘ -

* Caramel/Storyswap Chara ' The friendly sentry-to-be ' -

STORY ASRIELS:

* Brash/Storyswapfell Asriel 'The absent minded sentry' -

* Ivory/Storyswap Asriel ' The laid-back sentry ' -

STORY PAPYRUSES:

* Bloodbath/Shiftfell Papyrus ‘ The Catacombs Caretaker ‘ -

MAFIA SANSES:

* Riffle/Mafiatale Sans ‘ The Mobster ‘ -

* Riggs/Mafiafell Sans 'The failing underling' -

* Slate/Mafiaswap Sans ‘ The Two-Faced ‘ -

* Mal/Mafiafellswap Sans ‘ The Malevolent Boss ‘ -

* Casanova/Mafiaswapfell Sans ' The Angry Boss ' -

* Grim/Mafiahorror Sans ' The Devoted follower ' -

MAFIA PAPYRUSES:

* Rose/Mafiatale Papyrus ‘The Right Hand ‘ -

* Whip/Mafiafell Papyrus ‘ The Boss ‘ -

* Slim/Mafiaswap Papyrus 'The blind follower' -

* Rus/Mafiaswapfell Papyrus ‘The Jack-Of-All-Trades ‘ -

* Slim/Mafiaswap Papyrus 'The blind follower' -

* Toots/Mafiafellswap Papyrus ' The kind follower ' -

* Dreary/Mafiahorror Papyrus ' The cowardly follower ' -

MAFIA GASTERS:

* Syrup/Mafiafellswap Gaster ‘The Spy ‘ -

* Chompers/Mafiahorror Gaster ‘The deceased Don’ -

* Admiral/Mafiafell Gaster ' The brutal Don ' -

* Basiliscus/Mafiatale Gaster ' The Collected Don' -

* Apricot/Mafiaswap Gaster  ' The cheerful informant ' -

* Sable/Mafiaswapfell Gaster ' The strict Don ' -

MAFIA CHARAS:

* Dove/Mafiafell Chara  ' The Apathetic heir ' -

* Sage/Mafiaswap Chara   ' The two-faced sweetheart ' -

SLAVE SANSES:

* Ardor/Slavetale Sans 'The catalyst' -

* Roxxy/Slavefell Sans  'The lovable pervert' -

* Ditzy/Slaveswap Sans  'The savant slave' -

* Wisteria/Slaveswapfell Sans 'The perfectionist' -

* Azalea/Slavefellswap Sans 'The housekeeper' -

* Mortis/SlaveDust Sans 'The loose canon' -

* Cassiopeia/SlaveOuter Sans 'The perfect prey' -

* Jaws/Slavehorror Sans 'The starving slave' -

SLAVE PAPYRUSES:

* Viper/Slaveswap Papyrus 'The skeptical slave' -

* Rogue/Slavefell Papyrus  'The reluctant slave' -

* Pup/Slaveswapfell Papyrus 'The perfect puppy' -

* Foxglove/Slavefellswap Papyrus 'The perfect lover' -

OVER SANSES:

* Frank/Overfell Sans 'The flirty mechanic' -

* Tommy/Overswap Sans 'The friendly donut shop owner' -

* Pierre/Overswapfell Sans 'The justice obsessed officer'

* Theodore/Overfellswap Sans 'The temperamental nurse'

* Flynn/Overhorror Sans 'The veteran'

* Angelo/OverLust Sans 'The insane cat gentleman'

* Daniel/OverOuter Sans 'The passionate astronomer'

* Tony/OverMafia Sans 'The typical dark backstory ex-mafiose'

OVER PAPYRUSES:

* Russel/Overswapfell Papyrus 'The child-loving kindergarden teacher'

* Tobias/Overfellswap Papyrus 'The helpless romantic'

* Whitley/OverLust Papryus 'The damsel in distress'

* Willow/OverMafia Papyrus 'The friendly rival'

BEAST SANSES:

* Spurce/Beasttale Sans ' The territorial Alpha ' -

BEAST PAPYRUSES:

* Shamrock/Beasttale Papyrus ' The Friendly Beta ' -

SNAKE SANSES:

* Charcoal/Snaketale Sans ' The chubby snake ' -

* Leather/Snakeswapfell Sans ' The territorial snake ' -

* Grease/Snakefell Sans ' The aggressive snake ' -

* Aquila/Outersnake sans ' the dreamy snake ' -

* Walnut/Snakeswap Sans ' The cheerful snake' -

* Crow/Dustsnake Sans ' the homicidal snake ' -

* Lapis/Altersnake sans  -

SIREN SANSES:

* Seafoam/Sirentale Sans ' The human-hating siren ' -

* Ocean/Sirenswap Sans ' The selfish siren ' -

* Seaweed/Sirenswapfell sans  -

---

REAPER SANSES:

* Hades/Reapertale Sans - 

#yandere undertale imagines #yandere imagines #undertale imagines #yandere #headcanons #yandere headcanons #canon characters #character names

[the-con-she-called-conscience]

your mutuals as aesthetics ?

Hello, Anon. Thank you for this absolutely wonderful ask. If I missed you or you'd like me to do you, just let me now! Let's see:

@biganimeaesthetictree: retro futurism. Game boys of every age, controllers with wires spread around on a fluffy bed. It's not messy but highly precise. Chocolate flavoured milk in coffee cups, spreadsheets of an ever growing YT channel, monitor set against New York Skyline. Unused guitar in a corner of the room, entirety of MHA mangas shelved in order. Edits and edits of his own mangas and comics, working till the sun goes up. Mail chock full with stuff from friends and fans.

@somethingpretentiouss: bitter orange cake with buttercream frosting and topped with crumbs. Clear transparent everyday stuff with cursive quotes. Black bomber jacket set against lavender tulle skirt, multicolored mosaic notebook with a well worn ukelele. Foggy mornings and lazy afternoons. Faint smell of traditional marigold-patchouli-rose mixed with moss and wildberries. Unending blue sky. A person in her own right, lives like that one light blue butterfly you once saw but can never forget.

@chaoticneutralcinnamonroll: Cinnamon and ginger, mixed into bronzed teas. Gold tipped cups, multitude of magazines and newspapers. Air charged with zangy energy, almost blaring punk and rock. Well worn snickers and side sling bags. Goes onto adventures due to intelligence, laughs hard, loves long and fierce. Toes the lines never even touched. Silver jewellery. Loves the sun. Simple yet almost paradoxical. Lives on her own terms. Coconut scented perfume and handful of Doritos.

@weirdkindoflove: reads multiple books at the same time, will mix up words from different languages. Loves Dante and tells everyone how it is the oldest fanfiction, has the nicest gloss and notebooks chock full of equations. A maths whizz, warmest hugs, is the embodiment of sense of security. A determined ally, least person you'd expect to meet in a protest, strongest and most resilient person you ever knew. Multiple neon vintage posters, Spiderman comics, and corded bracelets. Revolution in carbon-based life form.

@screechingnightchild Monster drinks, wears a lot of black. Unflinchingly human and inexplicable. Can beat you in a theology debate, anytime, anywhere. Sometimes feels like a forest god. Long bus rides, some handmade luck charms made by their friends on their backpack. Drinks Coca-cola in the glass bottle itself for aesthetic. Knack for finding sinners in places of worship. Should always be loved and appreciated, as is the most likely to fist fight god and win.

@tuliharja Kind, appreciative soul with the nervous system and skeleton made of steel. Feeds birds from her cookies. Pastel coloured shirts and hair in shades not yet discovered. Has a knitted Halloween pumpkin, loves reading lore. Is the person who gets called to the hospital when her friends get hurt. Changes the world and lives with a flick of her hand and doesn't realize it. Home-made mead and fleshy fruits. Cats, specifically lynx figurines. Freshly baked fruit pies and herbal infusions. Soft classical tunes that you have to strain to hear, canvases filled with color, opened bottles of turpentine. Her existence is what magic is made of.

@narut-oh-shit : fluffiest jackets imaginable. Knows politics down to its woven fibres. Unknown and rare comics, metallic earpods, unbreakable metal bottles. Probably 1.47 GB of memes in their RAM. Wry wit, and a soul made of fire crackles. Has a plethora of diverse acquaintances. Perpetually broke college student with mad editing skills, sends in the most well written essays and analyses. Has sticky, fruit flavoured balms, and an almost definite goal in life. Rice crackers spilled on their lap, and ink spills on their desk. Shades of mahogany, cheap mechanical pencils kept with metal-bodied proper pens. Most likely to dimension hop.

@psycho-mocha : Boba with jaggery, star themed wall papers. Loves the texture of velvet, and owns posters or merchandise of their favourite brand. Has dedicated shelf space for fantasy genre, and is fascinated by sleight of hand. Wraps the string of ballons on their wrist, and feels oddly connected to certain historic monuments. Dreams of cool, refreshing river which tastes like mint, sometimes of midnight with a shovel and dirt under their nails. Feels a sense of longing when they think about their likes. Hits back xenophobes at every chance.

@microwavedsaladisevil : looks for their favorite childhood book in shops, stores and fairs. Lives in a treehouse with iced tea and peaches. Share oranges with friends during bus rides, wants to take a train across countries. Has chains of daisy and lilies, hates capitalism. Knows ocean like it's her hometown, records it's lores long forgotten. Will intern at marine facility on an island, and hates people polluting the water. Feels as if their heart crumbles like paper, and keeps stones as paper weights. Will dive head first into the water and come out surfing at the other end. Something about them screams victorious.

@oscarwildeismyidol jangly bracelets, sits under the tree. Embodiment of hope and positivity. Steadfast, and looks into the void to find secrets. Knows obscure trivia about Wilde, writes the most humorous book reviews. Flavoured drinks hit the back of their throats, idly they wonder the meaning of life. Achieves and achieves but at the cost of no one, presses flowers and leaves into books. Walks barefoot on wooden floors, and loves watching the sun in early mornings. Wears plaid in Autumnal evenings, sips tea and watches the world turn. Fears disenchantment. Has the most compelling smile, and as long as they be, they know it's going to be alright.

@notyouraveragejulie : makes the best potato salads, wears her adventures and achievements as a jacket. Walks into vintage stores chock full of opera memorabilia and assorted knickknacks, always befriends the monsters living upstairs. Sketches down frescoes on the roof of theatre, works part-time and is never disappointed by the night. Pages and pages of music scores and books fluttering with plays, computer idling with a paused opera. Writes down neatly the plans to conquer the world, and she will. Just after finishing this cast's version of her favorite opera. Listens to the magical flute while washing dishes, and feels the nervous flutter and maddening hum of life. Never makes a wrong choice.

#asks

[nyxshadowhawk]

Nyx’s Ultimate Halloween Playlist

Need some theme music for your haunted house or Halloween party? I create a new Halloween/Samhain list every year. (This year’s list uses a LOT of SotN music! I’ll be posting that too.) Here’s a compilation of some of the “greatest hits.” Yes, there’s a lot of Nox Arcana.

Spooky:

“Toccata” by Nox Arcana: You need a version of Toccata and Fugue in D Minor! I use the Nox Arcana version, but if you want something more upbeat, I recommend the Trans-Siberian Orchestra version.

“Nocturne” by Nox Arcana: An almost quintessential Halloween piece. Dark, creepy, expressive, easily applicable to a variety of contexts, evokes sensual and torturous bloodlust... It’s perfect!

“Labyrinth of Dreams” by Nox Arcana: Another absolutely quintessential Halloween piece. I originally found it in a cute Halloween animation on youtube (which I’ll post later). This is my favorite Nox Arcana piece. It’s mystical and spooky, and contains the very essence of Halloween magic.

“Ceremonial Spell” by Adrian von Ziegler: In my opinion, one of the most beautiful pieces of music that I have ever heard. It invokes a dark, smoky atmosphere lit by candelabra and filled with undead, slowly, eerily waltzing.

“Masque of the Red Death” by Nox Arcana: Speaking of waltzes, this one is in a ballroom in a magnificent ballroom. This dramatic organ piece perfectly reflects Poe’s words: “There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust.”

“Into the Night” by Nox Arcana: Another one of my favorite Nox Arcana pieces, spooky and fast-paced, as the night creatures crawl out of their lairs and gather to quench their thirst.

“Ghost Bride” by Adrian von Ziegler: A melancholy music box piece. Can’t you see a beautiful, sad spirit floating down a dusty corridor in an abandoned mansion?

“The Forgotten Path” by Nox Arcana: I think this piece is underrated. It’s sinister and kinda sexy, and brings to mind seductive female spirits.

“Shadow Dance” by Nox Arcana: Much like “Labyrinth of Dreams,” this one just screams “Halloween” to me. You can just see witches and demons dancing around a fire in a forest of leafless trees.

“Once Upon a Nightmare” by Nox Arcana: Another one of my favorites from Grimm Tales. I love listening to this one when I’m walking in forests around sunset. It’s sinister, but also sounds like the beginning of an adventure. I could see this in a video game.

“Shadowplay” by Nox Arcana: This is my favorite track from Theater of Illusion. I love it for how fast and energetic it is. It puts me right into the theater, watching a handsome magician spin shadows around the stage. Mmm...

“Born of the Night” by Nox Arcana: The Dark Tower is one of my favorite albums. This particular one’s a classic and among the best Nox Arcana tracks. This takes everything I said about “Into the Night” and turns it up to eleven. It’s just so intense and cathartic. Those aformentioned night creatures raise their raspy voices in worship of the Dark Lord and Queen of the Night. The night summons like an unquenched love, beckoning with the promise of dark desire.

“Night of the Wolf” by Nox Arcana: Arguably, Nox Arcana’s most famous track. I first came across it on SYTYCD when a man used it for a solo. A few years ago, by pure coincidence, I heard those first few telltale bass strokes in dance class as my teacher was scrolling through music, and I lost my goddamn mind. I squealed like an eleven-year-old squeals over boy bands. “I’m not like other girls, I squeal over creepy shit!”

“The Raven” by Nox Arcana: The piece that helped me rediscover Nox Arcana, and that began my obsession. This piece is just so beautiful, and based after Poe’s classic poem. I listened to it while memorizing the poem. Its instrumentation is just perfect all the way through. I’m not quite sure if it belongs on this list, since it has a bit of a different atmosphere, but I love it too much to leave it off.

“Halloween Waltz” by Derek and Brandon Fiechter: Alright, let’s leave off the Nox Arcana. There’s a lot of Fiechter pieces I could put on this list, but I like this one. It lacks Nox Arcana’s sophistication, but it brings to mind a classic gathering of monsters enjoying the Hallowmass festivities on their one night.

“Cemetery Waltz” and “Waltz of the Willows” by Two Steps From Hell: These pieces are both short enough that I basically regard them as one piece. I love how ethereal and romantic they sound.

“The Vampire Masquerade” by Peter Gundry: This French-style piece puts us in a regal vampire’s ballroom, with moonlight streaming through the windows, tall candelabra, and crystal goblets of blood. All the vampires are impeccably dressed in nineteenth-century clothing. Actually, that blond gentleman over there looks more eighteenth-century French. (There’s a really cool organ version of this piece on youtube.) There’s a lot of spooky Gundry pieces that I like, especially “The Shadow’s Bride,” “The Nocturnal,” and “The Shadows Hymn,” but this one felt the most “Halloweeny.” I recommend checking out his stuff.

“Danse Macabre” by Camille Saint-Saëns: Samhain is about the spirits of the dead returning for a night of revelry. Azrael plays his violin while the ghosts and skeletons dance in the graveyard until dawn.

“An Embassy Waltz” and the original “Veilgarden Theme” by Maribeth Solomon and Brent Barkman, from Fallen London: I’m sad that FL no longer has music attached to it since the app was retired. I love this music. "An Embassy Waltz” is so evocative of everything Fallen London is-- street lamps and smoke and bats and tentacles. And the Veilgarden theme takes you straight to the dim honey-dens for a bit of hedonistic pleasure. (I’m referring to the quiet and sensual original, not “Carnival at Midnight,” which is the Mahogany Hall variation and the version that is on the official OST. I just like the former version better.)

Party:

“Monster Mash” by Bobby Pickett: It would not be a Halloween list without Monster Mash. We’re heading into the party section of the list. The line “Dracula and his son” makes me imagine Alucard sitting in the corner of the castle hall with his back against the stone wall, sipping wine just like his father and watching the festivities with a bored, deadpan expression. Alucard’s not one for parties. I can’t act in-character at this year’s Halloween party, or I would be a terrible hostess.

“Land of the Dead” by Voltaire: I love Voltaire, and this jazzy song from The Grimm Adventures of Billy and Mandy is absolutely perfect for any Halloween party.

“Moon Trance” by Lindsey Stirling: Lindsey’s epic dancing zombies graveyard number. This is the kind of Halloween piece that makes you want to bounce up and down.

“The Night (Deathrock Version)” by Voltaire: This is another Voltaire piece that I like to dance to. Some of the lyrics are a little cheesy, but I see this is as the fun, upbeat, rockin’ version of “Born of the Night.” Same deal, different style! It’s super catchy. Come with me to the other side! Make that girl in black your bride!

“Sympathy for the Devil” (I use the Guns N’ Roses version because it’s the one on the Interview soundtrack): You really can’t go wrong with this one. Especially if you want to stick it to uptight religious dweebs who hate Halloween for being “Satanic.”

“Emperor’s New Clothes” by Panic! At the Disco: If it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine... Want to embrace your inner decadent devil? I do!

“O Fortuna (Carmina Burana)” by Spiritual Project: A remix of O Fortuna that my dance teacher played in class one October. It rocks. It’s probably less “party” and more “evening workout,” though. (Its one song on an album of other Halloween remixes of stuff like “Ghostbusters” and “The Phantom of the Opera”).

“Don’t Go By the River” by Voltaire: It was between this and “When You’re Evil.” As great as that is, I thought this was more upbeat and catchy. And it references Lestat. It’s perfect if you want something Cajun-style.

“Phantom of the Opera” medley by Lindsey Stirling: A new addition this year. This was featured in The Umbrella Academy. It’s so awesome.

“All Souls Night” by Loreena McKennit: Putting the Samhain in All Hallows’ Eve. Brings the list full-circle in that it’s a bit spooky and very Halloweeny, but still fun to dance to. It’s actually pretty cathartic, and it makes me think of cloaked figures in masks dancing with their lanterns on hills. Old-school Halloween!

Believe it or not, I’m actually leaving a lot off. Pretty much everything by Nox Arcana works for Halloween. There’s a lot more Voltaire that I like, too. Lately, I’ve been listening to “Carpe Noctem” from Tanz der Vampire (the original German version, because it’s better), and that is just so dark and sexy and fun to rock out to. You can’t go wrong with “This is Halloween,” of course. I also recommend “Moon Dance” and “Remains of the Day” from Corpse Bride. “The Secret Garden” and “Dark Ritual” by Adrian von Ziegler are both creepy. I could go on and on. If you need music for a specific situation, feel free to ask me!

#halloween #halloween music #samhain #samhain music #spooky music #haunted house music #halloween party music #atmospheric #halloween playlist #dark music #nox arcana #voltaire #aurelio voltaire #adrian von ziegler #peter gundry #lindsey stirling #loreena mckennitt #monster mash

[wynterunderhill-blog]

Chapter 2: To Un-Explain The Unforgivable Drain Of The Blood

I

The voice down the other end of the phone jabbered away in what Mike thought was Spanish.  Given her name it was the most probable language she’d use.  It was always difficult to follow Antonia, a few foreign words slipped out in a deceptive German accent, but it was even harder when she went off on one.

It had started with a simple question, a not so simple answer, and then what Mike believed to be a wide range of insults in Spanish.  As if it isn’t confusing enough, Mike thought, as he tried to get a word in.  One would’ve been enough and it would’ve been “Quiet!”

When she paused for breath in her tirade, Mike saw his moment of opportunity and took it, perking up briefly.  With a forced cheery tone he called “Bye!” and, shoulders slumped, Mike threw his mobile onto Ellie’s bed.  He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed tight shut.  Twenty minutes.  Twenty minutes was how long Antonia had been nagging down his ear.  Talking to Antonia was always so tiring.  She considered everyone idiots when it came to technology and then expected them to understand everything she said.

Mike collapsed onto Ellie’s hotel bed, the phone bouncing against his ear, and breathed out a tired sigh.  He looked at his watch and then dropped his arm over his head with a groan.  Ellie was still out on her date.  Of course she was.  She’d left less than an hour ago.  That was his only consolation of the evening.  Although he preferred it when she was around, he was happy Ellie couldn’t get drunk either.

It was an important night for the both of them.

He rolled his head left and right, trying to think of something other than drinking that he could do.  The books, placed in neat rows in a polished bookcase, were old and worn from hundred of hands.  They looked like they’d come apart if he dared to touch them.  The ones that would survive his assault would be French versions of Pride and Prejudice, or something similar.  Happy-dappy, classic romances that he couldn’t read even if he wanted to.  He didn’t know any French beyond “Bonjour” and a few titles for the average, everyday French folk.  He thought of how a woman like Jane Austen would be so disappointed for not being able to address a Lord correctly in French.  But a lot had changed since her day.

War had come and gone, quite a few times since her death.

Thinking of Jane Austen reminded Mike of something his father has told him, when he had been no more than a little boy sat at his father’s side.  That day, Mike had learnt about the Great War and the men in the trenches who would read Jane Austen’s works.  His father had said it had been because the men missed their womenfolk and wanted to feel better.  Mike had remembered that when he had enlisted and had read all her books during his own war.  His father had been mistaken.  The men hadn’t read her because they were missing the company of women, but because she had created a dream world for soldiers to wish for.  To die for.

Mike had dropped that book, Pride and Prejudice, into the mud and left it there.  Unless someone picked it up after him, it would still be there, all these years later, buried below the soil and the blood of forgotten soldiers.

He refused to, metaphorically speaking, dig up that book.

In the corner sat a flat screen TV.  They didn’t have one back home and he was tempted to give it a try.  But the remote was one the coffee table, well out of his reach.  Mike dropped his head back onto the bed, marvelling at the feather mattress that he only ever felt in this Parisian hotel.  The people in the TV only spoke French anyway and he never had the chance to pick the language up.  His visits to France usually ended in bloodshed and sudden departure.

He glanced up at his watch again and then put it to his ear to check it was still ticking.  It was.

He thought about calling Antonia again.  Despite their many disagreements and arguments during there relationship, Antonia was the only recruit Mike considered a friend.  He was reaching for the phone when he paused and retracted his hand; instead, he knocked it away with the side of his head.  Antonia was busy.  She’d shouted that she was in the phone call he’d ended before thinking it through.  She and her tech minions were on surveillance, watching a family of Shifters in a small town in Denmark, while tracking the known followers of Raynaud Edouard Bouchard on their social media sites.

Bouchard, the neo-Nazi Ellie assassinated earlier that day, had been the reason for his call to Antonia in the first place.  The guy made Mike grind his teeth together, even after death, and he was desperate for some kills of his own.  Mike had called to see if Antonia could talk him through hacking Bouchard’s phone so he could browse his local options.

“Talk you through it?”  She barked out a laugh, a noise that always made Mike want to hit her.  “Even if I could do that, you still wouldn’t understand how to do it.  Anyway, you need equipment, imbécil.  It can wait until you return, amigo.”

His next sentence started with “But can’t you” and ended with him being shouted at in Spanish on a subject he didn’t care about.

Mike pawed at the phone by his ear, and laid it face up on his chest.  Should he call someone?  The only two people he knew were busy.  Perhaps a game?  He’d become rather fond of playing solitaire, despite hating it in his youth.

He didn’t have a chance to make a decision: the mobile buzzed on his chest.  He answered it on the second ring and didn’t bother to check who was calling.

“Ellie?  Is that you?  What happened?”

“Mon Dieu.  Do you not ‘ave caller ID?”  A male’s voice came down the speaker in a thick French accent.

“What?”  Mike frowned, pulling the phone away from his face to check the caller ID.  The screen flashed up the name.

Oh.  Dr. LeBlond.  “What do you want?” Mike asked, picking a piece of fluff from his jumper and watching as it floated down to the duvet.

“I ‘ave some concerns that needs immediate attention.  Seeing as you are in town, I thought you could put them to sleep.”

Mike started, his mouth drier than it had been a moment before.  “How did you know if we’re in town?  We could be anywhere.”

“Alors, I’m looking at a body that says otherwise.”  Mike shifted, feeling like he was in the hot seat on Mastermind: sooner or later there would be a question he wouldn’t be able to answer.  “It’s definitely one of yours,” continued the doctor.  “The cut to the throat is quite professional, especially from this angle.  I must congratulate you on such a good kill.”

“It’s not mine,” Mike said quietly.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.  When Dr. LeBlond started talking again, Mike could hear the smile in the little Frenchman’s smug voice.  “Then you must congratulate Ellie for me.  But where is she?  I ‘ave called ‘er a few times, but I ‘ave only got to the voicemail.  Perhaps she is out killing more monsters without you.  After all, she would not want to offend you.”  LeBlond’s laugh was deep and muffled through the speaker, like he was stuck in some kind of underground chamber.

“Oh.  Sorry,” Mike spat, “I forgot to laugh, Dr. I-love-dead-things-more-than-alive-things.  It’s not my fault if I enjoy my job.  You like yours, too.”

“Enough talk, Monsieur le bébé,” Mike’s face fell at the nickname the Frenchman had given him.  “You English talk far too much.  Where is Ellie?  I must talk with her.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” Mike said, clenching his fist.  “I guess you would say I’m holding down the fort until she gets back.”

“Ah.  Then we are, as you English say, doomed.”

“Anything I can help you with, doc?  Did you cut off a limb and not know how to sew it back on?”

“Yes, I would go to you for sewing advice.  But not for body parts.”  Mike’s face fell.  “But I suppose you will ‘ave to do.”

“Yeah, because that’s not insulting.”

“Come to my office in ‘alf an ‘our.  I ‘ave something you will want to see.”

“I don’t answer to you,” Mike said.  A smile started to spread across his face.  “I thought you’d know that by now.”

“All right then.  Do not come.  But you will be the one explaining to Ellie why more people ‘ave died from a loup-garou attack, when she ‘as placed the only registered loup-garou in Paris on my table.”

II

Sat in a candle lit corner of a mahogany floored, former ballroom with luscious scarlet drapes, Ellie could keep most of the patrons in her sight and had a good view of the major exit.  The customer entrance with its large glass doors, and the windows that looked over the river Seine glistening in the setting sun, gave her a vantage point on the people outside.  It was the corridor leading down to the toilets and kitchen that had her tapping her nail against the side of her half empty wine glass.  Jimmy hadn’t been able to book their usual seats, so she didn’t have the advantages of sitting by the wall and in the centre.  Every table was occupied: there was no way of changing.  Ellie hated being backed into a corner, but it did come with an advantage: she didn’t have to watch her back.

When out on a job Ellie was often alone, but she always carried some from of weapon with her, even if it was only her hidden blade, sheathed inside an armoured cufflet and baggy hoodie.  Whenever she went to a place unarmed, she had always had Mike with her, ready with weapons to throw her way.  But Jimmy - she flicked her eyes in his direction, and then focused back on her glass - had asked for her chaperone to stay at home, so they could really be alone.

Jimmy reached out and covered the nervous hand with his own.  “Don’t worry.”  His hand was warm and slightly sweaty.  “I’ll get the princess home before midnight,” he said with a wink.

“I’m not worried.”  Ellie twisted her hand so that she was holding his across the table, like a couple of lovers.  She put on her most submissive and loved-up smile she could muster: “Not with you.  I could never be worried with you around.  I’m just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be.  I promise I’ll behave.”

Ellie angled her face down, eyes half closed and one side of her lips up.  She wished she could make herself blush, but her actions got the desired reaction.  His grip on her hand changed and he began to caress the webbing between her thumb and index finger in sweeping motions across the skin.  The movement was comforting, even though Ellie disliked being handled in such a way.

When she was touched, it was usually a way to try and knock her down; an attempt to take her out.  And not to dinner.

The last time a man had held her hand had been years ago, a few months after the discovery of his betrayal.  He had sold her out, let her enemies know where she was based, and had even handed information over to them.  Ellie remembered the fight well.  It had taken place in the Angel of Death’s old Parisian headquarters.  She had ordered her recruits, most long gone now, to collect as much as they could from the library and weapon stores, leaving her to stand and fight in the entrance hall with him clutching onto her hand, his thumb smoothing the creases between her thumb and index finger.  He had whispered into her ear.  “I will always fight for what you believe in.”  Even then, she knew it wasn’t true and she hated him for it.

Just before her enemies had broken down the door, she pulled him in front of her, and placed a light kiss on his lips.  If he could lie, then so could she.

Her fingers, now looped around his belt, slackened.  With a flick of her wrist, her hidden blade slipped out of its sheath and she slammed it up, into her lung.  Ellie’s hand gripped the back of his neck and dragged his ear to her lips.  “All those who betray me, and the Angel of Death, end up dead, baby,” she had said, and then kissed his lobe.

When she pulled away, she saw fresh blood staining his chin as his mouth opened to try and let air into his  lungs.  But only blood passed between his lips.  Ellie pulled the blade from his body, wiping it on his light grey jumper, and then released the back of his neck.  He slumped and fell backwards onto the floor and lay there twitching.  Ellie stepped over him as she returned her hidden blade back up the arm of her jacket.

Jimmy’s movements brought all those memories to the surface, but she felt no remorse for her former lover.  His death had filled her with pride.  Nothing could stop her if it meant it spared the people she had sworn to protect.  She had killed friends in the past, allies and fellow soldiers: the day haunted her.  But her ex-lover’s death was just another victory of that night.  She had stopped loving him the moment his betrayal was known.  All those who had crossed that threshold, who had trespassed, had been killed.  After, her body weakened by the long and bloody battle, it had been just her and Mike who had piled the bodies high, and then torched the building.  Both of them had felt guilty, leaving the flames licking up the walls of the building that had become their home.

And then Mike was gone, and Ellie was standing alone with the darkening sky above her, thick with ash.  The air around her scorched her skin.  The three storey building on the outskirts of Paris was gone, replaced with a temporary building, designed to blend in with the desolate surroundings.  From where she stood, she could see the entire building burning, the debris on the ground from the explosion she had caused.  Ellie was grateful she had used all the petrol on the base, as it overpowered the stench of burning flesh.

The grip Jimmy had on her hand brought Ellie back from the maze of her memories, and she squeezed his sweaty hand.

Jimmy looked deep into Ellie’s eyes, searching for an answer there that he would never find.  His face was slack, and his eyes wide and staring.  The gormless, love-sick expression reminded Ellie of the time she and Mike fought of a load of zombies in a sleepy Italian village.  Behind the vacant expression, and slack-jawed idiocy, there was a look of intent.

Ellie’s gaze fell to the flowers on the table, wanting to look anywhere but at him.  She willed a blush to make an appearance to get into the character she was playing for him, but she had never been much of a blusher.  Instead, Ellie bowed her head and wiggled her hand out of Jimmy’s.  Once free, the cold air hit her flesh and chilled the sweat that had encompassed her hand.  To stop herself wiping it off in disgust, Ellie reached out and touched the petal of a flower in the elaborately weaved basket.  After declaring the little white flowers were her favourite, Jimmy had taken to having a basket of them whenever the two of them got together. She rubbed her thumb against the petal, avoiding eye contact.

“What are y…” Jimmy began, but was silenced when Ellie brought a finger to her lips.

Ellie dragged her fingers across the delicate stem and pinched it.  Cold sap lightly coated her fingers, a pleasant change from the hot blood that usually drenched her hands.

Jimmy went to speak again, but Ellie leaned over and pressed a finger to his lips.  He was silenced.

As she stood, his head went with her, his eyes following as she flicked her hair irritably out of her eyes and mouth.  Ellie slipped the tips of her fingers across the cloth, trailing behind the rest of her body as she drifted around the table.  She twirled the flower in her fingers, the red of the nails standing out like blood against the snow white petals.

Her movements were slow and delicate: deliberate.  As she leant forward, she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and lowered herself to the floor.  Ellie concentrated on putting the flower’s stem through Jimmy’s dinner jacket buttonhole.  It was over a minute passed before she managed to fiddle it enough to make it stay facing, more or less, straight out.

As Ellie went to leave, drawing her body from his, she stroked the tips of her fingers down his arm.  The touch was soft and gentle, fleeting and barely felt.  It had James Hamilton, heir of the Hamilton estate, fortune, and mass of ancient artefacts, leaning in for more.

And then she was gone, back to her seat in an agonising slow and teasing sashay back round the table.  It was all for his benefit: for him to watch, but not touch.

As Ellie slipped into her seat, she noticed Jimmy reach up and turn the flower so the petals faced out.  His mouth opened and closed.  He was trying to find the perfect words to fit the situation, but Ellie knew he wouldn’t find anything.  Jimmy wasn’t the brightest spark.

When he’d settled, his blushed face returning to its usual colour, he said, “Thank you.”  He gave her a smiled.  “It’s an odd choice of flower, though.”  His speech was gaining momentum again, as he came down from his visual high.  “Capella…”

“Campanula Carpatica,” Ellie corrected swiftly and with a patient, thinned lipped, smile.  She had taken care to remember every little detail about him, but he couldn’t even be bothered to learn the name of her favourite flower.  The flower she had said was her favourite.

“Yes, yes.  Campanula Carpatica,” he said slowly, sounding out the syllables.  “My Latin has always been terrible.  But I can pronounce it’s more common name.  Funeral Bells!”

Ellie was shocked he’d learnt that, but instead of showing it, she reached out to touch at a petal again.  It was just a gentle touch, but enough to make the flower bob under the pressure.

“Sometimes,” he laughed, “under that charmingly sweet and innocent face, you’ve got the mind of a sadistic killer.”

“Oh.  If only you knew,” Ellie flirted.

*

Walking hand-in-hand along the bank of the river Seine, Ellie almost felt relaxed.  In one hand she held held the basket of little white flowers and in the other she has the hand of the man who she’d dined with.  Ellie let her usually tense muscles relax and she sank more of her weight against Jimmy.

Ellie hadn’t felt so relaxed in public, with civilians, for over twenty years.

It was when they had to leave their London home for a smaller country home.  At the time she’d no idea how important the move was: it took a few years to see the difference.  She’d only cared about leaving the city where her friends lived, where her perfectly decorated room was, and where she could always visit, what she’d called in her youth, her garden.  It was so long ago that Ellie could no longer remember what her bedroom looked like, only the feeling she’d felt in her chest as she’d left it for the last time.  It was the same feeling she had when, eight years ago, she realised she could never go home again.

The realisation had exploded in her face.  Ellie gripped the basket of Funeral Bells tighter.  Her nails, longer than usual, dug deep into her palm as she tried to quell the shaking she could feel starting inside.  The pain worked, clearing Ellie’s head of the acidic smell of burning petrol and the arid desert.

Ellie buried her head into Jimmy’s arm, hiding her face from him.  His scent was somewhat familiar and grounded her.  The shaking eased before it became something he could tell it was nothing to do with the wind.  Ellie almost tensed, when he lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders, drawing her even closer.  Her instinct was to punch him, but she swallowed that urge and relaxed against him.  Besides, there was still a chill in the air and she didn’t own a coat suitable for the occasion.  She only ever wore hoodies and leather jackets, never anything flashy and expensive.

Ellie reached for the hand slung over her shoulder.  It was hot and heavy; sticky with sweat.  But she held on and snuggled against, him hoping the indents in her palm, weren’t noticeable.

The last time she’d held someone’s hand, she pulled him in close, placed a gentle kiss on lips lips, and then punctured his lung with her hidden blade.  The sound of the blade slicing into his body and retreating again; the blood staining his lips.  Her brows furrowed, her nostrils flared into a snort, and her lips curved up into a twisted smile.  Ellie had killed a man, she knew that, but in the end, he’d cost her months of research and nearly her life.  His excuse: “God is on their side.”  He coughed blood, but she had already stepped over his body and was giving out orders.

“Get the weapons and research material out.  As much as you can.”  Her minions ran off, leaving Mike and Antonia by her side.  Her closest allies and closest things to friends since her life exploded before he eyes.  “Antonia, take the back-up hard drives and destroy the computers.  We’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.”

Antonia shook her head, her blonde hair black with sweat, sticking to the side of her head and to her neck.  “No.  I can’t leave you alone here.  You guys need me.”

“We need you alive.”

“Obey!” Mike snapped, covering his eyes.  “Or you know what will happen!”

A loud bang caused the building to shake, plaster to crumble off the walls, and dust to fall from the ceiling.  Mike stumbled and Antonia gripped his arm.  “You guys need me here.”

“Go.  Now!  That’s an order.”  Ellie bared her teeth and took a step forward, causing Antonia to let go of Mike and stumble backwards.  “Or you’ll suffer a worse fate than you can imagine and you would’ve betrayed your kin for nothing.”

“Buena suerte,” whispered Antonia.  She raised her head and gave them both a smile.

And then she turned and ran, disappearing into a backroom that led to her former lair.

Mike put a hand on Ellie’s shoulder.  “So it’s just up to us to hold down the fort.  And a couple hundred booby traps.  Just like old times.”

“Just as it should be.”  Ellie shook off the hand and put her body behind a pillar, pulling two silver blades from her belt.  Mike back up to another pillar to her left and holstered his gun.  He pulled his bow from his back and nocked an arrow, holding the string taut.

With a crash, the front door flew off its hinges and landed behind the pillars, sliding past them until it cracked into the back wall.

Mike nodded, show he was ready when she was.  Ellie nodded back.

And then the two turned towards the entrance together.

Mike released a silver tipped arrow as Ellie threw her first knife.

III

With a grin on her face, Ellie slipped an arm under Jimmy’s jacket.  He quivered at her touch, and pulled him towards the river.  The sudden change in direction caused their legs to tangle and they stumbled towards the railings.  Ellie landed hard against the metal; a second later, Jimmy’s body crashed into her.  In the glow of the streetlights, Ellie looked up at Jimmy from under her uniform eyelashes.  She leaned in closer and closer, until her lips were almost touching his.  Then she let out a very girlish giggle, pulled away, and hid her face with a hand as she looked down river.

Ellie hoped she looked like a shy date.

Jimmy shifted back a little, but didn’t take a step away, his upper body still completely pressed against her.  “I’ll still want that kiss,” he whispered into her ear.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

She turned back to face him so she could smile up at him.  She let go of his hand to run off ahead, expecting him to follow, not caring if he did.  It had been ages since it had all begun and she could be young and free again.

The rose garden in Hyde Park, her garden, was in full bloom.  Behind her she could hear her father’s low chuckle as she stopped at the first patch of flowers, her little, chubby cheeks flushed pink.  “Look!” she shouted, pointing at the delicate petals.  When he had finally caught up with her, pretending to stagger and pant, making her laugh at him, he lifted her onto his hip and promised her a garden filled with roses when they moved to the country.  He kissed the tears off Ellie’s face as she flung her arms around him and held onto him until they finally left for home.  That had been the last time Ellie had gone to Hyde Park until she had been shipped overseas, a regiment tattoo still stinging in her boot.

Of course, Ellie had been too young to understand the reasons behind the move at the time.  All she knew was that her mummy was sick.  She needed to go where the air was pure, where she could breathe properly, and she couldn’t do that in London.  Ellie did get her promised rose garden that she filled with blooms and pruned in the autumn.  It was back in a time she willingly admitted the rose was her favourite flower, until she was told big girls didn’t play gardener.  So Ellie became interested in the dark woods behind their country home, foraging for mushrooms; learning which ones she could make into soup and which she could make into an effective poison.

The smile fell from Ellie’s face and she was that little girl in her father’s arms again: not wanting to go, but knowing she could never stay.  Jimmy was like the garden she had abandoned, and the family she left: he wasn’t permanent.  Ellie could push him and he would disappear like everything else.

Jimmy caught up with her before she had gone twenty paces and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.  After all, how could she run away in a tiny dress and high heels?  Ellie wished she had actually practised just in case she had needed it in her life.  Running in heels was a skill every woman should have in her repertoire.

Leaning back into her role as loving and submissive girlfriend, Ellie wrapped an arm around her ‘boyfriend’.  From the way he puffed out his chest, he thought the affection she was showing him was because she loved him.  But she had said “I love you” hundreds of times in the past to get what she thought she wanted.  It never meant anything.  Not to her anyway.

She hoped, with every fibre of her being, it wouldn’t be too much longer until the charade was over.  Ellie hated to play the weakling: it was exhausting.

During the years of her training at the hands of Nanny Vivien, Ellie had learnt something about herself.  Vivien had told the young daughter of her employer that acting in anyway feminine wasn’t in Ellie’s nature.  It wasn’t in her blood.  And that was all Vivien had cared about in the end: blood.  It didn’t matter whose it was, as long as someone was bleeding, she didn’t care.  From hunting rabbits in the woods behind Ellie’s childhood home to killing her first Shifter at the age of eleven.  It always ended in blood.

Ellie wondered what Vivien would say if she could see her charge now, dressed in restrictive clothes, make-up, and no weapons on her.  Vivien would kick her arse, telling her she was an idiot, not the warrior she’d been train to be.  Vivien’s idea of a job well done was getting in and out without investing time or effort.  And, above all, kill anyone who dared get in her way.  Or who didn’t.

Ellie remembered going head-to-head with a Minotaur while travelling around Greece when she was thirteen.  It hadn’t been long after her fall down the stairs and her leg was still in cast.  He had thrown her hard enough against the wall to crack the plaster supporting her mending bones.  Ellie cried out in pain, but clamped her mouth shut again after a glare from Vivien told her to be quiet.  Slipping in and out of consciousness, Ellie had no idea how Vivien had killed the beast.  But it was his blood that drenched her clothes and stained her skin.  Vivien had walked away from a creature that had killed dozens of hunters before them, completely unscathed.

Ellie felt herself pulled in for another kiss on her head and let him.  For tonight, Jimmy was in control and she was swooning lady.  Vivien could go to hell.  Ellie felt like the rebellious teenager she never had the chance to be.  Her boyfriend might not have been real, but was not what Vivien would’ve approved of.  The clothes would’ve driven her mad.

And it would all work out in the end.  Ellie had a plan in motion and she needed Jimmy to complete it.  Vivien’s way wouldn’t work in this case and Ellie was thankful.  The object that haunted Ellie’s dreams was far too powerfully protected, by bodyguards and wards that Vivien had no chance.  This time, Ellie would be victorious.

IV

Mike stood outside Dr. LeBlond’s office.  Well, he said office but he meant hospital.  Once again the good doctor was working late, like Mike was, deep in the bowels of the hospital.  Mike looked up at the building, feeling a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt in years.

Once inside, the feeling faded as Mike strode towards the reception desk.  A tired Frenchman sat there, balancing a phone by his ear with his shoulder, taping away at the computer with one hand, and filling out forms with the other.  Mike pulled out a police ID badge, giving the receptionist a quick glimpse at it before telling the person on the other end that he had an emergency.

“Comment puis-j’aider, monsieur le detective?” the receptionist asked, never taking his eyes off the screen as he scrolled furiously through a document.  Mike almost felt sorry for the guy who couldn’t do this job on his own and looked overworked.  But there was a dead guy in the morgue who demanded what was left of Mike’s pity.

“Où est la morgue?” he replied automatically.  After years of saying that line, Mike no longer feared sounding like a Cockney imitating a Frenchie.  He had that question down to a T.

The set of directions that came out of the receptionist’s mouth was a garble Mike didn’t understand, but he smiled and thanked the man with a quick “Merci”, before heading down the corridor.

Asking for directions was something he and Ellie always did when visiting Dr. LeBlond at the hospital, not wanting to look too friendly with the doctor they pretended not to know.  The truth was, the good doctor made frequent calls to Ellie, or Mike when she wasn’t around, to make reports on Parisian news.

The further away Mike got from Les Urgencies, the French equivalent of A&E, the corridors became quieter and more like an office building.  There were still the occasional tired doctor and, down one corridor, a stampede of harassed nurses, but it was pretty quiet.  He didn’t envy them their jobs.  It might’ve been a dream of his - long ago - but his doctorate could do nothing for him now.  And besides, he enjoyed being the hunter-medic.  The power it gave him when Ellie allowed it…

Mike turned right and banged through the doors leading to a whitewashed stairwell, startling a few nurses who had sought refuge there.  They scattered, most going up, two out the way he’d come, and one, with a mountain of paperwork in front of her, dashed downstairs.  Mike followed at a slower pace.  Damn Dr. LeBlond.  Paris was just as hectic at night as it was during the day and the hospital, too, was always busy.

The thing he missed the least about working in a hospital was the long hours at a fast pace that had left him exhausted at the end of his shift.  All that running around to find some patients had still died waiting to be seen, huddled in impersonal and cold corridors with a bunch of bleeding strangers.  It was hardly sanitary.  And then he joined the military Medical Corps.  He had no idea what had possessed him to do it.  He guessed it was the feelings of worthlessness and wanting to do more.  After all that he did for his country, he was living like an exile, like Charlie Chaplin.  Mike closed his eyes against the hate burning in the hole left inside of him, and he didn’t open them again until he missed a step and almost landed on his face.

Down here, things were stark and bare.  A staff notice board was on the wall on his right and, of course, there were signs about hand washing, discernible only because of the universal pictograms, hung everywhere.  He squirted a handful of sanitiser and rubbed it in as he strolled down the overly bright corridor, passing storage rooms full of drugs and cleaning supplies, to the door at the very end.  The door to the morgue.

Mike pushed at it tentatively, aware that he was late for his appointment and worried Dr. LeBlond had got tired of waiting, preferring the comfort of his four room flat by the river to the windowless tomb that was his office.  The trains had been packed and there had been delays so it had taken him much longer than he’d hoped to get there.  But it yielded, so he put his palm on the glass and pushed, the door swinging open.  The door banged open, startling the doctor’s assistant, bundled in a corner.

“Merde!  Imbécile!” she shouted, wiping her clothes.  Her beige suit was soaked across her lap, a dripping cup in hand.  She dropped in onto her desk with a huff and picked up a piece of saturated paper, limp from a heavy shower of coffee.  She glared at him, jaw set, about to give him a right good bollocking.

Mike raised a hand: this one had a fiery temper.  “Désolé,” he said with an attempt of a grin on his face.

The woman’s nostrils flared and her feet shifted back into a fighting stance, pen raised and pointing at Mike.  Eyes wide, he took a step back, thinking that she would make an excellent addition to their team if she didn’t have eyes that said she wanted to castrate him.

And that was when Dr. LeBlond, face worn from a long day of cutting up dead people, appeared at the door in the far corner.  The doctor looked amused, turning his head from his assistant to the startled man in his doorway.  “Who would ‘ave thought you could be scared so easily, Monsieur.”  Mike’s face crumpled into one of anger and embarrassment, but Dr. LeBlond paid no more attention to him.  Instead, he turned to the woman brandishing the pen like a weapon.  “Sara, rentrer chez soi.”  For a moment she looked defiant, but it was wiped from her face when LeBlond barked: “Maintenant!”

She quickly packed up her belongings, grumbling, and barged passed Mike as she exited.  If they had met under different circumstances - different circumstances being not frightening her to the extent she poured coffee over her self - Mike would’ve liked to ask her our for a drink.

Dr. LeBlond still stood, arms crossed and leaning back onto the doorpost leading to what Mike playfully called the “dissecting room”.

“You are late,” he said with a huff.

“Paris is busy at night.  And I’m used to the open road, not trains.”  Mike picked up a hardboiled sweet from the desk, released it from its wrapper, and popped it into his mouth.  It clunked against his teeth, a noise he knew the doctor hate, and grinned around it.

“Non.  I am sure you would be much more comfortable living in a Victor Hugo novel.  With horses and…” he said, and looked down at the title floor with a frown on his face.  “With horses and… Quel est le mot?  What do horses carry - pull?”

Mike frowned.  “Carriages?” he asked, shrugging.

“Carry-age.  Really?”

“Yes.”

“Bien.  You belong with horses and carry-ages.”

“Nope.”  Mike walked over to the bookshelf, hands deep in his pockets.  “I belong here, mate.”  The word slipped off his tongue again, unnatural to his own ears.  Dr. LeBlond’s face clouded in confusion again, but he let it slide.  Mike almost sighed in relief.  The language barrier could’ve had them up all night.

And then Dr. LeBlond was gone, white lab coat flapping behind him as he disappeared into the backroom.

Mike sulked after the doctor, hesitating at the door.  Dr. LeBlond was already at the mortuary freezer, fingers wrapped around the handle, waiting for Mike to get a grip.  The doctor rolled his eyes, so Mike swallowed and strode over the best he could.  Dr. LeBlond had a wicked smile on his face, knowing full well Mike never liked this part, usually leaving it to Ellie.  But he straightened up and set his face, determined not to let Dr. LeBlond see the memories of being trapped inside one for hours on his face.  From the smile on the doctor’s face, Mike could tell he was enjoying it.  After all, the doctor wasn’t even Ellie’s second favourite helper.

The thought made a cocky gun appear on Mike’s face.  Dr. LeBlond was only still around because Ellie had thought his expertise would come in handy.  Otherwise he would’ve lost his head back when he’d been living in Rouen when Ellie and Mike were working a hunt.  And the doctor knew it.

With Mike finally at the huge freezer, Dr. LeBlond pulled out the middle drawer, the white sheet covering the cadaver falling in waves around the deadman’s face, constricting.  Mike clenched his fists.

The doctor folded the sheet away from the corpse’s face and upper body, revealing pale flesh with the first signs of rigour mortis showing on his shredded body.

“This one came in last night.  You see ‘ere” - the doctor indicated to the five claw marks on the deadman’s throat with a swiping motion - “the man was killed quickly by, erm, scratching at the throat.  The cuts are messy, very messy.  Done quickly to silence the prey.  And see ‘ere,” he said, moving around the body to drift his little finger over the deadman’s chest where more deep red slashes marked the deathly white skin.  “The attacker went after the le cœur - what you call ‘eart, non?”

“Yeah.”  Mike shrugged and leant on the thankfully clean autopsy table behind him.  “So?  It’s a werewolf attack.  I don’t see why you had to drag me away from the only quiet night in I’ve had in decades.”

“Because it is not the reason why I asked you ‘ere.”  Dr. LeBlond thew the sheet back over the victim’s pasty face and slammed him back into his little cubby hole with such force the door banged closed.  “Another body was brought in last night and that one is significant.”  He crouched and opened a lower drawer until half the body was sticking out, once again lifting the sheet off another victim.  “I ‘ave the body of the loup-garou and given the few number of attacks every month, I think he was the only one.  I am not certain, but I am mostly certain.”

“So?”  Mike shifted and cast his eyes down at where Dr. LeBlond was kneeling.  “Convince me why I’m here.”

“This body,” said the doctor, hovering is hands over the corpse, “came in this morning.  The police think it is an animal attack, the same that attacked the other man.”  He nodded his head to the drawer he’d shut.

Mike rolled his eyes.  He couldn’t believe he’d got dressed up for this: a werewolf case where the werewolf was already dead.  He loosened his tie, pulling it away from his neck, and undid his top button, sighing to release some of the pressure that was building in his chest.  He was far too sober to deal with the eccentric, little French doctor.

“There are similarities between what cause the deaths.  Both died because of a … a cut to the throat, but this body,” he said, waving a hand over the corpse, “has three cuts instead of four.  And they are much more précis.  It took one cut instead of many, like a usual loup-garou attack.”

Mike’s body straightened and his eyes focused on the body.  “So, you’re saying,” he said, squatting down to the doctor’s level next to the cadaver, “this was made to look like a werewolf attack?”  Dr. LeBlond nodded.  “But his heart was removed.  Why would someone do that?” Mike asked.

“To complete the look.  Look at this.”  Dr. LeBlond used his little finger to trace the marks on the second victim’s chest.  “When a loup-garou goes after the ‘eart, it is usually insane, mad with ‘unger.  It wants to feed: it needs to feed.  But this is, how you say, tidy and neat.”

Mike leant in closer, not even bothering to correct the doctor’s idiom.  Dr. LeBlond was right, of course he was.  The cuts were neat, meticulously neat.  There was limited tearing around the wounds, which was common in animal and werewolf attacks, and the insertions looked planned, not like they were made in a frenzy.  Mike’s experience as a military medic made him know that these wounds were made by a knife, not claws.

“So, if it wasn’t a werewolf, what did it?”

“There is not a lot to go on…”

“There’s nothing to go on.”

“Not from ‘im.”  The doctor nodded to the corpse.  “But there ‘as been some er … unrest in many vampire groups in Paris.  One, en particulier.  The are un’appy with the rules.  They ‘ave grown tired of drinking blood from pouches rather than…”

“Rather than straight from the tap.”  Mike wiped a hand against the stubble on his chin.  “How do you know this?”

“Straight, as you English say, from the ‘orse’s mouth.”

Mike’s eyebrow shot up.  “They let you in?”

Teeth bared, Dr. LeBlond rolled his neck, a low growl coming from the back of his throat.  As another pair of teeth descended from below the doctor’s lips, Mike put a hand on his gun, concealed behind his back, tucked, with the safety on, into the back of his trousers.  He clicked the safety off, the noise causing Dr. LeBlond’s head to twist back down.  The smile on his face unnerved Mike, the extra set of teeth jutting out unnaturally.  With a cackle, the doctor’s head rolled back, and when he faced Mike again, the teeth had disappeared.

Mike let out the breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding, as a relieved laugh bubbled to the surface.  He reapplied the safety, but didn’t let his hand stray far from his gun.  “You know, doc, with you working with so much deadman’s blood, I sometimes forget you’re a part of Club Undead.”

“Do not joke.”  The doctor’s face was completely serious, the remnant of the beast that lived within him faded into the face of a middle aged man: a few crinkles around the eyes and greying at the temples.  “This is not the first body like this I ‘ave examined, and this is only one morgue of many in  Paris.  A few friends in other morgues had described similar markings.”  He flicked the sheet over the man’s body.  “What are you going to do about it?”

V

Ellie was biting her cheeks as she sashayed across the hotel reception, one hand lingering on the back of  of a velvet sofa, towards the lift.  All her concentration had to be focused on her feet, or she’d land on her face.  Her feet ached to high heavens, the balls of her feet felt like she was walking with pins lodged under the skin.  The last thing she wanted was to fall, risking a twisted ankle and having Jimmy rush over to help her up, gentleman that he was, putting his hands all over her as he checked she wasn’t hurt.  Ellie repressed a shudder and the smile she was biting back fell from her face.  She’d been stuck in a desert storm, sheltered in a burnt out all-terrain vehicle, had blood dripping for her face and hands, but she’d never felt so dirty as after a date with Jimmy.

What she wanted was a hot shower and she felt that she’d earned it.  But that was all to come.  For now, she had to make do swinging her hips as she left Jimmy blocking the entrance of the hotel.

After she’d hit the button that called the lift, she turned.  Jimmy waved to her, his hand raised and rocking gently.  Ellie returned it with what she hoped was a sexy twiddle of her fingers, as she’d seen other women do.  She smiled, trying to reassure him, giving him the message that he could leave, but she knew he wouldn’t.  It was always worth a try.

And then the lift arrive with a ping!  Ellie faked startled well: a hand over her heart, followed by a giggle with a slight bow of the head.

Then she was inside, the doors closing behind her.

Relieved to be alone at last, Ellie slumped against the wall and slid down until she was on the floor with her weight off her feet and her hair sticking from the static against the wall.  A pained sigh came from her mouth before she could bite it off, but she grinned through the pain.  After all, Ellie had felt a lot worse in the past.

She pulled off a shoe without undoing the buckle, aimed, and threw.  The heel hit the button with her floor number etched in gold onto it and she punched the air.  It was another victory of the night.

Earlier that evening, cuddled up under Jimmy’s arm with his jacket wrapped around Ellie’s shoulders, they had found an empty bench facing the Seine.  They sat for a while in silence, staring at the lights reflecting off the water while Paris bustled around them.  Jimmy pulled her closer until she was leaning against his sweaty body and she only had one thigh keeping her on the bench.  Ellie managed the resist the urge to punch Jimmy in the throat when he palmed one of her arse cheeks.  Instead, Ellie smiled up at him and melted into his touch.  He kissed her temple and stroked the hand on her arse down her thigh.  For a moment, Ellie’s heart actually fluttered.  She wanted to slap his hand away so he wouldn’t notice, so he wouldn’t question her about the odd shaped, raised flesh that he would feel through the thin fabric of her dress, and that she wouldn’t be able to explain.  But his hand only rubbed up and down the back of her thigh, occasionally stopping to caress her skin in gentle circles with his thumb.

And that’s when he hit her with her first, and most important, victory of the evening.

“I know you’re busy at the moment,” he started, not able to look her in the eye.  “But my parents are having a party in a few weeks time.  Back home, at their estate.  I’ve told them all about you and they’re dying to meet you.”  I bet, Ellie thought.  “But will you be able to make it?”

For a moment, Ellie was too stunned to say anything.  It had worked.  Her plan had actually worked.  Ellie wanted to punch the air, but she restrained herself, instead cupping the hand that was groping her.  “I’d love to,” she said softly, and entwined her fingers with his.

“You meant it?”

“Yes.”

It was the only thing she told him that night that hadn’t been a lie.

As Ellie sat on the lift floor as it made its smooth ascent up towards her room to celebrate a job well done, Ellie pulled off her other shoe and dumped it next to the flowers that had decorated their table at dinner.  Jimmy had ended up carrying the little wicker basket the restaurant had made at his request, especially for her, on their walk back to her hotel.  Her fingers ghosted across the the flowers, the delicate petals bending under her touch; until she stopped, picking a flower from its stem.  Ellie twirled it in her fingers.  The petals danced around like the floaty dresses she used to wear as a little girl.  Then Ellie stopped, dropped it into the palm of her hand, and crushed it.  Ellie turned her hand palm down, the petal floating back down to the floor.

*

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Ellie said with a big smile on her face when the lift opened on her floor.  The man who’d been facing away from her with his hands behind his straight back, turned to reveal a bored expression.  The one who’d been leaning against the wall, one leg tucked under his body as a temporary seat, pushed himself off it.  “The good doctor and my right hand man, friends at last.”

Mike snorted as he cupped his hand around the lift door before it could close on her.  “Come on, Ellie.  Get up,” he said.  Ellie raised a brow at his authoritative tone, but let it slide.  It wasn’t the first time Mike had started acting like a prat in front of Dr. LeBlond, and his timing was impeccable: she was too tired too call him up on it.  “We have an emergency vampire meeting to break up.”

Ellie rested her head on the wall, chin up, closed eyes facing the ceiling.  With the tips of two fingers, she massaged her temples.  A headache was on its way from all the laughing she had done and after smiling all night her cheeks were sore.  Ellie never wanted to go undercover again.  Making sure a smile stayed on a man’s face, with his sensitive ego, was way harder than it looked.

With a huff she got to her feet, slapping away a helping hand from Mike as he lent forward, body still blocking the doors.  He stepped aside to let Ellie pass and she pointed to the floor.  “Pick up my stuff and follow me.  Both of you,” she order, before Mike could make a complaint.  Whatever happened, Ellie was still in charge.

“Want us to dump these?” Mike asked, as he picked up a stiletto and her bag, while Dr. LeBlond went for the Funeral Bells and the other discarded shoe.

“No.”

“Oh!  I thought you’d never want to see these again.”  Mike looked down at the shoe in his hand as he skirted the closing doors, just before Dr. LeBlond.  Mike studied the shoe in his hand, stopped, and then realised Dr. LeBlond was doing the same with the other.

“Shoes ‘ave changed since I was born,” said the doctor, his voice quiet, too quiet for Ellie to hear, but Mike did.  Dr. LeBlond had said it in English, aiming the comment at Mike.

“Tell me about it.”

“Have you lovebirds done reminiscing about the past?” asked Ellie, slamming her hotel room door behind them, drawing the men away from the shoes.  Dr. LeBlond followed Mike’s actions, throwing the stiletto onto the bed.

“Good.”  Ellie reached behind her and unzipped her dress, stripping it from her bod.  Both Mike and the doctor suddenly became very interested with the ceiling.  Ellie followed their gaze.  “For crying out loud,” she said, shaking her head.  She stepped out of the puddle of fabric and barged between the two men.  I still have underwear on, you know!”

Ellie, marching towards the bathroom, twisted on her heels, arms raised as if she was going to hug someone, continuing to skip backwards.  “One of you boys had better pick that up,” she said, inclining her head to the dress on the floor.  “You never know, I might need it when I get to England.”

Mike’s head snapped down.  Then Ellie’s laughter filled the room.  It was a light and joyful sound.  He couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like that.  Then it was gone with the slam of the bathroom door.

“You’re going to England?” he shouted, but didn’t get an answer.

Mike raised a finger and pointed at the closed door.  “We’re going to England,” he said, a huge grin plastered on his face.

The doctor, who had picked up the dress and was holding the silky fabric by his fingers, shaking the wrinkles out, said, “Non.  I am not going.”  He darted his eyes to Mike’s face to watch the grin drop from the other man’s face.  “And you are not either.”

VI

During their years of allied friendship and visits to the French capital, Ellie and Mike made many visits to the Paris catacombs.  They would be called in to chase down a pissed off spirit who’d been moved from his place of burial to his final resting place, stored amongst the bones of thousands of others.  Ellie and Mike would wander the maze-like tunnels, off shoots, and dead ends, torch light bouncing off row after row of skulls.  With the number of bodies buried beneath the city and the bones scattered far and wide, it certainly wasn’t the normal salt-and-burn.  Unwilling to torch a French monument and historical site, Ellie had to get creative when finding a solution.  In the end, she and Mike had tagged many of the walls with the Celtic symbol go protection against spirits.  The simplified version of the Shield Knots were spray painted on the walls and onto bones.  It had worked until the authorities had discovered the odd graffiti, and started to clean it up, driving out party-goers - who weren’t exactly helping the already restless spirits - and causing frequent hauntings.  The already notorious catacombs were beginning to get an even worse reputation.  And that was when the vampires decided to move in.

The modern Parisian vampire doesn’t live in an underground nest, shrouded in darkness, but resides in high-rise apartments, and various other luxury abodes with all the conveniences the contemporary world had to offer.  But they still had a flare for the dramatic, holding secret meetings in the ancient underground assures, and having little sleepovers down there occasionally.

“I used to go to the meetings once a month,” Dr. LeBlond said as he lead them through the winding tunnels.  Ellie dragged her fingers against the wall of skulls, feeling every eye socket and every missing tooth.  “But I ‘ave been busy for the last seven or eight months, so I ‘ave not been able to come.  But I do know they were beginning to show a … erm … dislike to the Angel of Death’s ruled.  ‘Aving never seen ‘im, they did not take ‘is threat from two humans seriously.”

In the darkness, Ellie and Mike made eye contact.  He had crossed his arms and was pouting, brow furrowed.  Ellie wanted to laugh at him, and say that the vamps were in for a surprise, but restrained herself.  There was a high probability that they would need Mike’s rage.

*

The closer Ellie and Mike got to the area where the doctor said the vamps were meeting, they could hear light music and talking.  Ellie closed her eyes, letting her fingers guide her around the corner, trying to tell how many of Club Undead there were.  There were too many voices to tell for sure, but she thought it was about twenty.

When they shut off their torches, Ellie’s shoulders slumped.  The events of the past few days were beginning to take their tole.  The balls of her feet ached; the scab that had formed over the claw marks from the werewolf attack pulled every time she moved.  But Ellie straightened her back again.  It wasn’t the time to let past events get in the way.  That was a sure fire way to getting killed.

The tunnel curved again and then they were standing in the entrance of a cave, the only sound being the tinny music from a portable speaker.  The vampires huddled together towards the back of the large cavern, carved into the limestone that Paris was built on.  The chamber had a little stage to the left, where the music and a scantily clad female DJ stood in charge of the music.  Looking around the room, Ellie noticed most of the vamps weren’t wearing very much, some even going topless.  Since Twilight all the vamps are forgetting to dress properly, Ellie thought.

There was one good thing about the vamps’s have naked state: there was no where for them to hide any weapons.  These were classy vampires, they only used their teeth when they needed to, or were feeding.  They only had one weapon Ellie and her boys had to worry about.

The vampires, however, had more on their mind.  Up against three people - two of which the vampires admittedly thought were weak, and were in for a shock - with their only exit blocked.  Ellie bet they were regretting their choice of clubbing location.

“Bonjour!” Ellie called out, taking a step into the room.  The vampires all took a step back.  Ellie and Mike were a formidable sight.  They tossed their torches to one side.  She tightened her grip on her machete and he rapped his crossbow, arrows primed with fresh deadman’s blood from Dr. LeBlond’s morgue.

“I hear you’ve been bad, little vamps,” said Ellie, taking yet another step into the room and flinging the machete in front of their faces.  “Isn’t that what the Angel of Death has been hearing?  That you’ve been killing people in the style of werewolves just for some blood?”

No one said anything.

“Don’t we provide you with enough blood to sustain you?  Did you really have to kill people to get it?”

Most of the vampires looked at their feet, but one piped up.  “So what if we did?  We deserve fresh blood!”  The chamber erupted with cheers.  The previously subdued vamps, too scared to even look Ellie in the eye, shouted words she couldn’t make out, seconded with bared teeth.

When the noise had died down a bit, Ellie said, “But you all made a binding contract.  You were not to kill anyone or anything.  The only way to break the contract is death.  Yours.”  Ellie raised her chin, eyes wide and manic, grinning from ear to ear.  “Hello, babies.”

And then her arm was swinging.  The machete whizzed though the air, making contact with a neck and slicing it clean off.  The head bounced a few times, before rolling and stopping right at Ellie’s feet, dead eyes staring up at her.  Machete raised, Elie put a foot on the dead woman’s face and leant forward.  “Who’s next?”

There was a blur of movement to her right, then the sound of an arrow releasing.  It hit the vampire in the chest, bringing it to its knees.  The next movement saw another decapitation, while Dr. LeBlond made himself useful at Ellie’s side, ripping the next vampire’s throat out with his teeth.  He panted, blood dripping from his face.  It had been a long time since he had killed anything, but vampires were his kin and killing them exhausting.  He backed away to watch Ellie swinging her machete, head after head rolling around the floor, and Mike standing at the chamber entrance, his arrows always hitting their mark and missing Ellie, despite her being to close to the target.

A vamp was coming up behind Ellie, her back turned and Mike was trying to hold off half a dozen trying to escape.  Dr. LeBlond jumped forward, gripping the vampire on the shoulder and turning him around sharply.  He growled, burying his face in the vamp’s neck, biting deeper and deeper until the body went slack in his hands.  Dr. LeBlond doubted that would be enough to remove his debt from Ellie.  She had turned as he made the kill.  Her blood splattered smile said it all.  She knew the vamp was coming up behind her.  She just wanted him in the fight.

“Bloody hell!”  The arrows stopped coming over, but then Mike bounded forward, taking off two escaping vampire’s heads in one powerful swing.  Another vamp rushed forward and got punched in the the face while another came up behind, mouth open, and ripped into Mike’s wrist, expecting Mike’s grip to slacken.  He was mistaken.  The vamp was rewarded with being hit in the temple with the crossbow.  As the vampire fell, Mike’s machete fell upon the vamp’s neck.

And then it was over.  Ellie killed the last vamp with another clean blow.  She looked around her, smug smile on her face, finally letting the arm holding her machete fall back to her side.

“Damn it,” Mike said, looking down at the bodies around Ellie and the doctor.  “I should open with decapitation.”

*

With the chamber cleared of their presence, the three went their separate ways.  The doctor, with the blood of his kin drying on his face, knew he would be rewarded for his loyalty to Ellie, but his face was paler than usual.  But Ellie hadn’t given him a choice.

Empty arrows in the backpack slung over Mike’s shoulder, Ellie was free of any weapon.  She ached all over, not that she wanted Mike to know that.  But he did.  He’d taken her bloodied machete without complaint and packed it away.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her.  Ellie’s make-up had been washed away from perspiration and the dark rings around her eyes were clear, even in the light of the torch as they made their way through the catacombs to the closest exit to their hotel.  Instead of bringing it up, Mike said, “If you’re really going to England, we need to talk about your protection while there.”

Ellie didn’t say anything.  She just lightly touched his arm and then stormed off ahead.  She definitely wanted a shower now, but it would have to be cold.  Cold to wash away the heat of the blood that seared her skin.

Mike followed close behind her, rambling on about her protection while she was in England and he remained on the continent, in charge until she returned.  He said something about getting other hunters involved, but Ellie thought it too risky.  Hunters hated demons more than anything and she had a hoard of them at her disposal.  That didn’t go down too well with one hunter she bumped into and ended up killing.  He’d thought she’d been a demon, too.  No, she thought, mercenaries would be better and would ask less questions.

#Supernatural #Fanfiction #All Original Characters #Female Protagonist #Male Sidekick

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

Halloween Costumes (2021)

AVA - Dracula

MIMI - Shrek

FINN - A knight

SAL - Snow White

MAHOGANY - Fred from the mystery gang

PASCAL - Oogie Boogie (Nightmare before christmas)

WULF: Sexy nurse

EDITH: Sexy doctor

LACE: A postman

DAE: A zombie

MORDE: A sculpture

PEACH: Princess Peach

ADONAI: A skeleton

#the leather bound angel (ava) #ocean powerhouse (mimi) #he has a heart made of cotton (finn) #he speaks of holy fates (pascal) #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #the living stardust (sal) #riding the wild winds (wulf) #she was a rose without thorns (edith) #he will set your fears free (lace) #diamond of the rough (dae) #dusk filled head (mordecai) #underwater garden (peach) #sweet face sour taste (adonai) #trick or spooks (halloween)

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

✘ "Have yeh ever t'ought about eating me?"

][Rhys to Mahogany][

@blind-mutant

Truth meme

"....'Lil bit." They admitted with a shrug and glanced away. Mahogany hunched their shoulders and didn't meet Rhys's eyes ad bad feelings came with the thoughts. "Wan'ned at first 'cause hung'ry and meat but then fallin' in love wi'th mate an' I'd nev'ah!"

This was the point where the Jötun seemed to hunch further, looking smaller than Rhys now. "An'.. if ya die...m'gon'nah eat ya. No one can have ya like hu'mans had ya an'...ya al'ways gon'nah be there, beat'in in'side me too."

#ask #blind-mutant #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany)

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

“Wear this, and you just might pass for human,”

@sebastianshaw

Mahogany tilted their head, holding up the long fur. Sebastian was nice enough, he never said anything mean, although they got the idea that he didn't really like the fact that Mahogany often stripped off or liked dragging him into fights with them.

Or maybe he did like that part, if it got Sebastian out of meetings and those seemed rather boring. In Mahogany's point of view, you should just fight and show that you were the best Alpha of the group. The god.

"Th'anks Seb'ast," They beamed, reaching out and patting a large hand on the small man's head. He was bigger than most humans, but still small compared to them. "Keep fur good, 'till it gets broken in fight, 'kay?"

#ask #sebastianshaw #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #jsjsjsjs thye're a weenie ur honour

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

"Why are no doors EVER made big enough for horns?" For Mahogany

@awkward-snake-girl

Taurgust starters

"'Cause no hu'mans have 'em," Mahogany tried to not laugh too much at the sight of Mattie shifting around. She was a little deer, which was very cute and smelled very nice. It took a lot right now to not want to reach and bite down into her, but Mattie was Mahogany's friend, not their food. It would be very mean to bite her, so Mahogany settled for taking deep breaths instead as they moved beside the deertaur.

"Gotta duck an' twist," They explained and moved forward to show Mattie, twisting their head slightly as Mahogany ducked low enough to slowly get their head through the door. It wasn't often that they tried to get inside buildings when in their more wilder form. "Then ya in!" Hopefully Mattie could get a handle on getting inside buildings like this easy enough or at least get to go back to being human soon enough.

Mahogany knew that what they were or being similar enough in any way wasn't always easy, but at least Mattie wasn't a carnivore animal!

#ask #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #awkward-snake-girl #centaur verse

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

Memes! Part t h r e e

@awkward-snake-girl / @blind-mutant

Red: Does violence have to be the last resort. Can't it be like third

******

Samuel: You call it a "heinous violation of legal and ethical rules" I call it "creative problem-solving"

******

Rhys: You call yourself evil but you can't even stand up without getting dizzy

******

Rhys, talking about Sal: Stop messaging my bf bud

Mahogany: our boyfriend

******

Mattie: Do you have a self care routine?

Pascal: "Keep going bitch!" Said to myself in different accents

******

Morde, with Abby balls deep in him: Demons are usually depicated as red to indicate that they are heavily seasoned with paprika and chili pepper, like a chorizo

******

Finn: If I am sensitive. Why I gotta stop being sensitive? Why can't you just be a little nicer?

******

Pascal: Feeling cute today. Might commit acts of hubris.

******

Mattie: Why don't you plant some lavender and when it blooms you can squeeze a leaf or two between your fingers and the smell will calm you down. How about you do that. Bitch.

******

Rick: Well I don't want to be silly anymore. I want to engage in hoaxes and schemes now

******

Pascal: Any other unsettling promotions you'd like to share with the class?

******

Red: Could you be any more annoying

Rhys: Easily

******

Sal: Sorry for saying that you're "such an idiot" I'm actually "in love with you"

*******

Iris: It's not the most ethical move in the world, but in a pinch you can hand off a cursed object to basically any baby

******

Ava: Witches in old fairy tales had the idea. Living alone, unmarried, in the middle of the woods, and if a hero stumbled across their cottage theyre like "maybe I'll give you a magical token to help you out. Maybe I'll fuck up your entire life. Depends."

******

Dae: I am not going to unleash my bitterness on you because I am trying to become a better person. Have a nice day

Rhys: what were you originally going to say bitch omg

******

Lace: Why did my last two braincells have to be a sad one and a stupid one

******

Finn: You should have never doxxed the rabbit community

******

Sal: I'm glad we only live once cuz I cannot do this shit again

******

Pascal: HAVE YOU EVER TOUCHED A dog

******

Rhys: As your goth husband I will adorn you with cursed artifacts and then die mysteriously leaving you to be the most feared widow/er in the village

******

Edith: Some of you are simply not cut out to be the resident mean gay person. And that's okay, because I am. And I will be mean. And gay

******

Samuel: God complex this, victim complex that...I have an underground complex, it's where I perform my evil and fucked up experiments

******

Skaar, living by the sword: Haha! Fuck yeah! Yes!

Skaar, dying by the sword: well this fucking sucks. What the fuck.

******

Mahogany: I don't think my boyfriend, the 12 foot Halloween skeleton from Home Depot, would be too pleased to hear about this

******

Mattie: check in on your nemesis! Make sure they're doing poorly in these times!

******

Hulk: The hardest I've ever laughed was when I saw my dad cry. It was my moment of realization that I'm better than him.

*******

Ava: Knifehack

Ava: Just stab the problem

*******

Sal: What is wrong with you

Rhys: I will try to be brief (1/456)

*******

Mimi: One of the only downsides of actions is consequences. But it's a big downside.

*******

Samuel: I've done nothing wrong. Except for all the atrocities. Besides that I'm innocent.

******

Jen: After a thorough medical assessment, the doctors have described me as "a lot. Just like a lot to deal with."

*******

Lace: Necomancer that doesn't know they're a necromancer and thinks they're just a really good emt

*******

Pascal: Y'all ever want a pretty girl to just...boss you around a little bit

*******

Rhys: sorry I'm bisexual and easily distracted

******

Mordecai: Whenever I say "we" I am referring to both myself and the mental illness

******

Mattie: Date a girl who is a home and an adventure all at once

Rick: Date a girl who doubles as a haunted house

*******

Pascal: wlw what is your wisdom

Mimi: World hard and cold...tiddy warm and soft

Edith: girl hot

Mattie: Watch Naurto

******

Sal: No I'm not flirting I was only bothering my gay friends in a homoerotic way

*******

Mattie: You can be positive and break a bottle over someone's head though. Multiplicity of identity

*******

Edith: I wish men would stop having opinions about women. Honest to gog shut the hell up

*******

Wulf: tell your girl she's hot or I will

********

Mattie @ Samson: I'm gonna be honest I hate you and so do my friends

*******

Rhys: I am dying to see you topless

Dae: Then die

********

Sal: Money isn't real so don't worry about paying for stuff. Just take things for free. Nobody can stop you

#awkward-snake-girl #blind-mutant #memes #the living stardust (sal) #the leather bound angel (ava) #he has a heart made of cotton (finn) #ocean powerhouse (mimi) #he speaks of holy fates (pascal) #she was a rose with soft thorns (edith) #diamond of the rough (dae) #riding the wild winds (wulf) #dusk filled head (mordecai) #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #last one!

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

🎨 ][For Sal + Mahogany][

@blind-mutant

"This is stupid, right? Feeling this way?"

"...No. Feelin' is what gives pow'ah. An' ya veh'ry stroh'ng, lil'."

#the living stardust (sal) #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #blind-mutant #art #decided to go a little more muted #cause Mahogany lets Sal relax as a person rather than glam it up #because Mahogany grew up knowing who they were and now they're lost without it #and sal grew up never knowing and constantly making his own person up

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

❛ You know, I’m very, very glad you’re coming. I think it’s very good you’re coming. ❜ for Mahogany

@awkward-snake-girl

Midsommar starters

"Mat'tie lil'." They patted her head, chuffing at the sight of fluffy hair and feeling it. Mattie was dressed nice in the big shirts that had no pants. It was pretty and Mahogany liked it lots, especially when Mattie gave them one, though right now they were only wearing a loose tank top and shorts. "Need me t'keep ya safe."

The air smelled of meat, good grilled meat that made their stomach rumble with the physical side of their hunger. The heat was awful, but there were still good parts of it, especially if there was a chance they could scare some humans. "Sum'ma part'ties done lots?"

#ask #awkward-snake-girl #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #mahogany u thembo its called a dress

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

“ get well soon ” ][For Mahogany!!!][

@blind-mutant

Maybe if it didn't hurt so much, Mahogany might have laughed over getting hurt once more. Leaving the Town, they had never assumed that they would be so prone to injury, yet here they were.

"At lea'st ya did'nt' 'cause it 'dis time." Mahogany offered a small smile and leaned into Rhys. They hadn't known what they stepped onto was a burning hot radiator and the resulting scream they gave had been enough to alert the human family within the nest Mahogany had been walking by. They had barely been able to make it back to their own nest, where they had been shown the unfortunate surprise to Rhys. Mahogany hadn't exactly wanted to come back hurt and to make their mate worry, but it had just been a small accident. Nothing to worry about exactly.

Still, having Rhys dab their feet with cold cloth still made them hiss at the air with pain along with the occasional growl to get their frustration out. Mahogany would have been fine with licking their feet, but their smaller mate seemed insistent on making them not walk until the Jötun had healed up a little bit more. It made Mahogany thump their tail with frustration as they listened and resigned to lazing and doing what they were told.

"Can go 'bout for walk tomo'rrow, ya?" They asked and twisted their head entirely to stare back at Rhys. They hoped he said yes. Mahogany was fine aside from their feet beginning to peel and they were sure a walk would help. But even though they were the Alpha, Rhys had a way about him that made Mahogany wilt to him if he was stern enough. Old Alpha would have loved Rhys for the way he could reign Mahogany in at times.

#ask #blind-mutant #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #tw injury #dkksksk i cant believe it generated me bURNS for Mahogany #aka for this ask: Mahogany acknowledges that they're whipped

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

1. Love || 4. Fears || 5. crying || 6. Laughter || 8. Dreams || 11. Best Friend || 13. Hair || 15. Hands || 17. Scars || 22. Family || 23. Romance || 26. Beauty || 30. Sex || 32. Birth || 35. Guilt || 36. Sacrifice || 39. secret || 41. Memory ][For Mahogany][

@blind-mutant

Love

A lot of Mahogany's view of love has always been rather religious and platonic. There was love from Old Alpha as she took care of them and taught them and Mahogany distantly knows that their mother loved them, but other than that, Mahogany has grown up on a pedestal placed by worshippers and the terrifying love of the Moder. Meeting Rhys and having a chance to make actual friends that aren't ancient worshippers means that Mahogany loves their friends deeply and will very much so do anything in order to protect and make their friends happy and feel loved.

Fears

Due to growing up coddled and kept away from most things, Mahogany doesn't exactly have a sense of what's dangerous and what isn't. After they get into the real world, Mahogany often will learn first hand why they need to be cautious over certain things, such as being hit by a car or being put into a bath of hot water (coughRhyscough). While it's useful for the fact that Mahogany isn't scared of small things like spiders or rats, Mahogany also doesn't really realise the danger that they can put themself and others into unfortunately.

Crying

Mahogany doesn't have enough water in their body to cry. Or more specifically, they don't actually have tear ducts (usually this means they just lick their eyeballs to wetten them). Instead Mahogany just makes loud nosies and copies crying, which can be more creepy than sad admittedly, or they simply curl into the corner and scratch things. Sometimes they scratch the walls and floor, but sometimes they scratch themself because at least then it feels like some sort of outlet when you can't make things pour from the eyes.

Laughter

Full anime cackle baby. Mahogany throws their head back and usually thumps their hands on the nearest surface and occasionally if it's REALLY funny they'll kick their legs out. Usually their tail forms and it starts wagging wildly and Mahogany will often keep grinning after they've laughed. They're the type of person whose favourite jokes are all about why the chicken crossed the road.

Dreams

Mahogany doesn't dream. The only time they do is if they're tapping into someone's head or if they're tired enough that they pass out. Mahogany only sleeps for a short amount of time and usually their dreams relate to the Moder still or tend to be useful memories being brought forth. Only rarely does Mahogany dream of their mother and they treasure those dreams of Robyn deeply.

Best friend

They didn't exactly have any real friends growing up since....no one was their age or at least stayed their age. But Mahogany probably would have said that Old Alpha was their best friend since she always sat with them, taught them, fed them and then Old Alpha would take them out to see the real world and play games with them. Mahogany considers Old Alpha their best friend for years until they meet Rhys or Abby and they become Mahogany's best friend.

Hair

Mahogany's hair is more connected to their nervous system than most, which is how they're able to feel things easily. Their hair grows rather slowly and it takes a few years for it to grow back once cut and it dulls some of their senses, much like how a cat struggles with some stuff once its whiskers have been cut off. Mahogany doesn't enjoy having their hair up in a bun or any tight styles as it cuts off some form of sensation and they tend to pull their hair out of it quote roughly. Also they love sniffing hair.

Hands

Rat hands. Mahogany has long nails that are jagged and more sharper so basically claws while their fingers are longer and much more thinner than a normal person's. Funny enough, Mahogany lacks the little wrinkles people have on their hands so...they've got really smoth hands to hold. Their hands have a lot of calluses and feel a bit more like cat beans from where their front hands shift into paws when in their Moder form. Likewise, their feet are harder and slightly curved in from how they shift into hooves.

Scars

Mahogany rarely takes scarring due to their powers making them denser and more detached from this reality, but when The Town burned down, it left a severe scar across their stomach up from their navel after they needed to find energy to survive their connection being snapped. Until they form another connection to build up power, Mahogany is more susceptible to being harmed and scarred, such as being shot or the other Jötun that harmed Rhys and admittedly Abby could scar them quite badly now if they were to get into a fight (especially since when meeting, Mahogany is quite deprived of physical and devine meals).

Family

Mahogany adores family. How could they not? Family has been everything for them growing up and it's the very place where power and home lies. Old Alpha was the one who started everything and Mahogany loves her more than life for years to come and still cries over her sometimes. And while they didn't know who their father was or where he went (Died immediately after Moder possessed his body to uh. Have the Build a Bear parts to make an heir), but Mahogany doesn't care. The only thing that's ever really bothered them is how little they remember their mother. All Mahogany has of Robyn is fuzzy memories of a soft voice and being kissed and heartbeats. When they're upset, Mahogany will tap surfaces at time in the same way Robyn's heart went.

Romance

Mahogany is all about romantic gestures once they get the idea of it! They go out and collect flowers, find things that they know their partner likes smelling or drinking and uh...collects the biggest kills they can get in order to seem more impressive towards their mate. Mahogany also starts grooming constantly and ensuring that their hair is nicely fluffed up and that their teeth crunch though the toughest material. They'll give a gift almost every week, especially if their partner likes it.

Beauty

Mahogany knows, that as a monster born from terror and an entire mythology dedicated to gods, they are beautiful and terrifying. Their hair is messy and long and can sense so many things, they can smell and hear much better than any other human, their devine form makes their horns regal and the many mouths and hands and eyes send people crying in joy and fear. Everyone is born with the body they are meant to have and while they don't understand why someome would want to change their body, Mahogany loves them and they love their own angular sharpness and there should be no reason for anyone to NOT want to spend all day feeding them.

Sex

Sex is a...new concept. It was had in The Town but Mahogany never really had a way of knowing it outside of Old Alpha reading them a bunch of puberty books that goes past the 18th century for boys and girls. Beyond that? Mahogany knows that they like licking themself especially well when thinking about a crush but when it comes to actual sex they're clueless for the first few times and the cues of it. Though Mahogany is very eager in sex to pleasure their partner and wants to be worshipped and to tease...although they also enjoy the idea of having a partner that can forced their head down and lift their ass by their tail to fill and rut them good?? Well, Mahogany has made their vulva swollen with those thoughts.

Birth

Ah yes. Birth. When you fill a bath of boiling blood, cut yourself open with a sacrifice and allow your Norse goddess to bless you with child. Y'know. Beats the queue at mothercare. Mahogany was born this way and um. Technically came from the body of a deer?? Robyn loved them immediately anyway and was the most insufferable mum now that she had not only the nordic antichrist, but the only child in The Town at all. It's part of the reason why Mahogany wants to make their own frozen home, so that they can ensure the same attention and effort into making their family as perfectly as posisble. Especially since the whole ritual takes a large amount of energy and effort.

Guilt

While Mahogany never really talks or thinks about it if they can help it, they feel a lot of guilt that he couldn't help their home, their worshipers. That Moder gave them so much power to do so much and all Mahogany really did was let people and a whole home die. They don't like facing their past mistakes and Mahogany will do anything posisble to try and save anyone close to them if needed. When they were younger, they used to turn their own power on themself subconsciously, which hurt even more to see someone from The Town wandering about in the woods before dispersing into ash.

Sacrifice

Mahogany is selfish. Therefore they would refuse to sacrifice anything that truly means something to them. Sure, sacrificing a meal or something to care for a mate is diffrent, but if Mahogany was forced to give up their power or the idea of a new home? Well, Mahogany has an embedded loyalty to Moder that not even a partner could break. Not unless Mahogany was willing to give up their power and to become human or something similar.

Secret

Mahogany is difficult at and with secrets. They can barely hide something they've been told, yet they can keep their own secrets for years on end. If you want to know something then you have to ask them for a while before they might finally spill. Their biggest secrets so far is that they lied when telling Old Alpha that they didn't remember their mother and when Moder told them to leave The Town for a while. That was when they came back to find everything had died.

Memory

Memories are usually when Mahogany's age starts to show. They're old as shit and the things they talk about at times show it, mostly from being with other ageless humans. But then Mahogany struggles to temper certain pathways to go or if Rhys told them to get a bigger rat or no rat at all to bring home??? Living for such a long time within a town where everything is the same means that Mahogany might struggle to remember certain events or faces, especially if they changed rapidly. Mahogany will never recognise Abby in his human form at first, probably never since it's such a stark contrast.

#ask #blind-mutant #headcanon #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #hoo boy!!

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

Wing verse for babbies pt 1

Ava - Chimney swift. I was considering bat wings but I kinda wanted to go full bird for this. They're really neat birds that often get confused with bats due to the way they live inside attics and chimneys. They also have neat sharp wings that fit her really well! Ava keeps her wings tucked in mostly, which is rather odd but not that many comment on it when she gives a cold glare. She's a real fast flier though and often struggles with taking care of her wings.

Mimi - Rose breasted cockatoo. Idk they just seem like really cute birds and they're rather flashy, along with having the normal behavior of other cockatoos. Mimi's rather pleased of her wings and often dyes her feathers with green and blue dye for her wrestling shows though and I imagine that coming from Wakanda means that Mimi has blue dye lines or something in her wings? Similar to how people from Wakanda have those tattoos in their lips.

Finn - Goose. The funniest thing since I imagine people would be constantly surprised at Finn having one of the angriest birds but he has cute darker wings that kinda...spread out and touch others a fair amount since they're rather large and Finn often doesn't even think twice before he stretches out his wings to brush them against people. He likes giving one of his feathers as a gift to people.

Pascal - Mourning dove. How could I NOT pick a bird linked to religion and with "mourning" in its name??? Pascal often just tells people he's a regular dove or a pigeon, those are normal, right? Yeah. He spends every day worried that some sort of bird eating spider genes will kick in and he ends up eating himself or worse, somebody else. Zuko keeps kneading his wings and pulling feathers out but Pascal doesn't have the heart to stop him.

Sal - Mixture of a Costa'a hummingbird and a barn owl! Sal's wings are...a little odd in the sense that one moment they're purple and the next they completely shift to brown, as well as the very wing texture itself. You can guess which wings Sal likes more and he feels often that the owl ones are just...stupid, especially since owls are regarded as smart birds and Sal knows for a fact that he ain't that. He takes care of his wings almost obsessively after spending so long rocky situation and those two years of messy plumage still make him feel sick. Hardly let's anyone touch his wings after Cecil ripped some feathers out.

Mahogany - Skua. A bird that lives around the artic and has been known to pray on other birds and are rather predatory. I would have given them swan wings otherwise and tbh maybe they have double wings and those are the other sets!! I think Mahogany would have enormous wings and probably gets mistaken for Mothman when they finally leave the Town. I think Mahogany really shows humans what they used to be like in evolutionary terms, seeing as they were born past the 18th century. Mega fauna birb cat and yet they act like a common pigeon.

#wing verse #the leather bound angel (ava) #ocean powerhouse (mimi) #he has a heart made of cotton (finn) #he speaks of holy fates (pascal) #the living stardust (sal) #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #there's gonna be a lot of images so I'm splitting them up #what do y'all thiiiink

[at-the-exd-of-everythixg]

“at least let me clean the wound!” ][For Mahogany][

@blind-mutant

In return for Rhys's love and concern, Mahogany snarled and curled up further under the bed. If he tried to go near them, they could escape from the other side, away from the warm cloth and stinging cream that smelled horrible!

Rhys had chicken and ham slices, treats if they were good, not to mention the fact that Rhys also had Elm'o with him. He had a lot of nice things, but Mahogany knew better than to trust that. They knew that he would rub hot and stinging into the wound. Not to mention the fact that Mahogany knew their beloved mate would also give them a firm lecture on their safety for night time hunts and devotions.

In all fairness, how was Mahogany supposed to know what bear traps were, let alone where they were around winter? They hadn't meant to gotten their foot trapped in one before ripping ut open and fleeing to the nest of blankets and soft vanilla and smoke. The Jötun had completely forgotten that their little mate....didn't enjoy it when they got injured. Mahogany wished that they didn't get hurt so often, that they would have been terrible enough with the moving world to constantly worry Rhys.

Maybe things were just too broken for them to live.

They didn't like that thought. It made the Jötun frown before curling away from Rhys, folding in on themself to gently lick against the gaping cut. It stung and the blood came out slow and black, flicks of pale bone seen inside their ankle. It would heal eventually, but Mahogany just wanted to curl up and heal emotionally from the terror that came from great silver jaws snarling and snapping them up up.

"M'fine, go'way!"

#ask #blind-mutant #the monster of forgotten midnights (mahogany) #tw blood #maybe rhys needs to give babyhogany needs warm milk to feel better hhiihig